Illusions
by cosmic
Summary: Framed for murder, Quistis is on the run, from humanity and from herself. In her dangerous, action-packed search for justice and the truth, can a passionate love affair with the one who can give her neither turn her world upside down? UPDATED!!! R&R......
1. Murder?

Rainbow bubbles: The beginning 

Hi! I'm back again! Stupid Ffnet has not been putting up my repeated add on chapters for my story, "Fall of the Dawn", the Sequel to "Kurse all SeeDs", so if u wanna read it, go to my profile and load it from there! *curses under breath at FF.net* Anyway, I thought I would have a go at writing a romantic Queifer…I mean, it's the ultimate pairing after all. This is not related to the timeline of any of my other fics, which you are welcome to read and review, by the way! J

Well, on with the story! I may write a continuation, if you guys like it…

**

Slender, blonde-haired Quistis Trepe strolled through the halls of Balamb Garden, whistling a long forgotten tune, scuffing her silent shoes along the polished passageways. She paused a moment, and let a fleeting breeze that emanated from an uppermost window ruffle her sleek, immaculately brushed hair. Involuntarily, she reached up a hand and smoothed the gleaming strands back down.

She caught sight of her reflection in the nearby fountain. She leaned over and stared into the clear, placid waters. Her face, slightly wavering with the tiny eddies of lucid water, stared back at her. She noticed several coins lying, some shiny, some dull, at the bottom of the fountain. She groped in her pocket for a coin and pulled out 1 Gil. She looked at it a moment, tracing the slightly embossed, glossy surface with one finger, debating on what to wish for.

A picture came back into her mind…

The day after Ultimecia's defeat…never thought of him, until that very next day. The euphoria at being free, at being useful…drove the thought away, right out of my head. Yet…that next day, the dull feeling, the empty feeling. Gone. "Missing". "Ashamed". "In hiding". The euphemistic words, to disguise the fact nobody thought they would see him again. Horrible words. A man, a powerful man, shamed to disgrace. A possessed man. Betrayed and did betray. Didn't he deserve another chance?

_ _

_I will never see him again._

If only…

Quistis dismissed the thought from her mind. She threw the coin and her reflection shattered into pieces.

**

Five minutes earlier, a man had scrambled, panting, into Quistis Trepe's spacious instructor's dormitory. A tall, muscular man, with eyes so black that they might have been soulless. He closed the window behind him with the little strength he had. Concentric, blushing circles danced mockingly before his eyes. It was a criss cross, baying moonbeam of a gloomy, dark day outside, and the cold and fear combined was more than he could bear.

Where was he? That man, the terrible, looming man…the sharp pain in his side interrupted his train of thought. He crumpled onto the bed, breathing heavily. The world swam around him. He couldn't…he mustn't…why, oh why? He thought he could see bubbles, feathers, church bells, rainbows…a shower of light fell around him and he could see his own, terrified eyes a thousand times. He could feel his side burning, a warm, agonising spot where the blood was leaking out. Who was after him? And why? And…

He was starting to forget exactly what had happened, the pain and anger combined sending him into wild delirium. He had to get out, he had to – 

He staggered to his feet, but only made it as far as the mirror, before his bloodstained hand went flailing, and his body thudded heavily to the floor.

**

Another day gone past, another day's work done. Quistis smiled. She couldn't wait to see the grade she'd achieved on her latest report on T-Rexaurs…an erudite mastery, if she said so herself, she thought, smirking slyly. She pushed open the door to her dormitory and stopped dead. Something was different. Something was wrong.

Afterwards, she didn't know whether it was the deafening silence that told her, or the glaring, bloody handprint on the mirror. Or the rumpled bedsheets, the drops of blood on the floor. All she remembered was that she had advanced, shaking, yet advancing, towards the mirror, and then her foot had met something solid, and she had looked down into the staring, black eyes of a young, black-haired man with a deep wound in his side.

Only the man was dead.

She never knew exactly what had made her do it, the panic, the chill, the utter fear of being found with a dead man. The inquiries, the fact that…the death could be related…to her…

She found herself, in the blur of confusion, stuffing clothes into a large duffel bag, taking money, credit cards, essentials…she mustn't touch anything, she mustn't be traced…

Her head was in a whirl, and she made it to the door almost without thinking. She roughly pulled on her thick SeeD's coat, and in a frightened whirlpool, was running down the passageways, through the front door, out of the gate, away, away, away…through the forest, along the road, the cold night wind biting into her neck, the air nipping at her face and drawing tears…what was she doing, it was wrenching at her, as if she was running away from home…

Home.

Abruptly she stopped, and turned to look at the building that she could never step foot in again.

The next train out of here.

The very next.

**

The train had been empty. Who would have wanted to travel at this time of the semester? The attendant, snub nosed and freckle faced, had handed her the tickets with a nonchalant air. She had felt like hitting him. Didn't he know what had happened? In one minute, she had panicked, making the worst decision of her life. But what else could she do? There was a dead man in her dormitory. And she would be the main suspect. What…if she was the main victim? But her main motive was not to draw attention to herself. Nobody, nobody must know she was running away.

And so, here she was, three hours later, in a deserted train bound for Esto Dali, the furthest city the train went to before she could take a boat, and leave the continent for good. Where would she go? She would figure that out when she got there. She had money, she…

God. What was she doing?

She buried her face in her hands and began to sob quietly. She was so desolate that she didn't notice the tall, lean man enter the cabin and stand over her concernedly. 

A few seconds went by before she realised she was being watched. Slowly, she raised her tearstained face and found herself staring into a pair of startlingly green eyes. She gripped the sides of the leather seats. His face registered surprised and recognition a split second before hers.

"Why…Quistis Trepe…"

And Quistis, rising, stunned, from her seat, whispered shakily,

"And you….are Seifer Almasy".

**

DADA!!! Would you like a continue? Please review and tell me what u thought! Thank you! JJJ


	2. Running waves

On the run 

**Thank you guys so much for reading this…if you like this, please review. I'd like some feedback, as the idea just suddenly came to me, and I'd like to know whether I've expressed myself well**

**

The sandy-haired man rifled through the papers on his desk. Small time murders, petty theft. Hit and run, drunk driving. His eyes roamed around his desk and fell on the ebony framed photograph lying face up on the corner of the aluminium desk. He put down his chrome-plated pen, and picked it up, his fingers tracing the lines of the beautiful face depicted in the photograph. High cheekbones, wide blue eyes rimmed with indigo, framed by long blue lashes. The sleek, long black hair of her mother's Indian origin. The slight flush of her cheeks as she looked at the camera, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her soft, honey tinged mouth. A prickle started behind the young agent's eyes. Petty thefts were nothing, nothing, compared to the murder of his fiancée, Melody. A body, riddled by bullets, flashed into his mind. He slammed the photograph, face down, onto the desk.

"Nick! New case! Balamb Garden, scandalous, of course. All hushed up, Cid's orders. A murder, and a possible suspect, missing."

His young, fresh-faced colleague, Susan, rushed in, her shoulder-length ash-brown hair untidily swept back in a windblown ponytail. "Here; a tape and a short debriefing. The bullet that killed the man is being examined by forensics now. Take a look. This is going to be the case of the year."

Nick took the typed sheet of paper and scanned it quickly. Young man, dark-haired and eyed, found murdered in former instructor's dormitory. Evidence of a break-in – either a break-in, or a way to make a quick escape. Talking of escapes…the instructor herself? Missing. Nick fumbled for the glossy photo clipped onto the back of the sheet of paper. Pretty little thing. Looked oddly familiar. He stared closer at the open, innocent face that now had the glaring, red words, "WANTED FOR MURDER" stamped onto the front. Poor kid didn't look any older than nineteen or twenty. You never knew, nowadays, did you? The face? A façade. A murderous personality concealed beneath, perhaps?

His train of thought was interrupted by Susan, rushing once again into his office. He looked up and was immediately struck by her grim face.

"Nick, the bullet. The bullet in the body. It came from the same gun…the same gun that killed Melody."

**

"And he was dead?"

Seifer drained his cup of coffee and looked at Quistis enquiringly. The bustle of a coastal café was oddly reassuring. They were both far from Balamb. They were both far from their worries. 

"How can you be so – so practical? A man is dead. I've done the stupid thing, and run away. I know I've probably just implicated myself in this whole, terrible murder. But – what if I was next? I was just so scared…and now I can't go back…"

"Running from your worries doesn't solve them, Quistis."

"Oh yeah?" Suddenly Quistis' deep blue eyes were full of anger. "So how come you were so desperate to get away from Balamb then? Why haven't you told me anything about why you were on a train headed for the furthest destination possible then? Why – why are you so interested in what happened to me, when you can't even tell me what you've been doing? Why are you here, and who are you running from, Seifer?"

"Maybe I'm running from myself…" replied Seifer enigmatically.

"Seifer…tell me. What are you involved in? Are you…"

"I can't tell you that." It was as if a door had closed. Seifer's face, that had been for an instant open, approachable, snapped shut, his expression masked, unreadable. Suddenly, Quistis' attention was diverted by one of the news broadcasting television screens that hung from the four corners of the café.

"…found today. CIK agents are looking for a young woman of average height and slim build, Caucasian, with blue eyes and blonde hair. Name…" Quistis let out an involuntary cry and brought her hand to her mouth as a picture of her face flashed on the screen, "Quistis Trepe. Wanted…DEAD OR ALIVE…".

The words were like a deathknell. _Dead…_Quistis felt something choke in her throat, as she glanced around the room fearfully. Nobody had seen her – yet. Soon, the world would be after her, against her. She would be hunted. Killed. Put in prison, for a crime she didn't commit. What was the point anymore? The world whirled around her, and she hardly felt herself get up from her chair and run from the café to the angry sea outside.

"Quistis?" Seifer stood up as Quistis fled from the store, hiding her face in her coat. This was more serious than he had initially thought. He knew how ruthless the police were. They would hunt Quistis, torture her, kill her…if she was found, she wouldn't be able to explain. There were no witnesses, nobody to stand up for her, nobody to defend her – she was so hopelessly, horribly alone.

Seifer snapped to attention as he heard a faint splash outside.

Jesus.

He ran outside and saw her as she went under. Without thinking, he kicked off his shoes and jumped off the low cliff, swimming towards her with powerful strikes. The water was cold, and deep, and the current was strong. In a matter of seconds he had caught up to her floundering form, and he wrapped his arms around her in an effort to pull her back to shore. She was struggling to get away, to get free, to drown…

"No…no…let me go…"

She was forcing herself under, pushing herself away from him, crying, gasping. He was amazed at how calm he was; it was almost as if he was detached from the horror scene happening in front of him. He held her wrists securely above her head with one hand, and tightly enfolded his other arm around her waist, powerfully dragging her back to shore. He could vaguely hear her crying, and could feel her struggling violently, but kept on. After what seemed like hours, he collapsed on the shore. Quistis tumbled from his arms and fell, broken, onto the sand. Her back was shaking, and he could hear her sobbing. He didn't know why, but the sound made him feel like running away, running away from it all. Together, organised, Quistis, reduced to this? Hesitantly, he draped an arm around her back. She lifted her head up and clung to him fiercely, yet with a desperation that frightened him.

"Why did you stop me…why did you stop me…"

"I couldn't let you die."

"Why?"

Why, though? What reason, except for…

He shook his head.

"I just couldn't. We'll get through this, Quistis. I promise – I promise, I'll explain everything. I'll stay with you through it…"

"I don't understand what's happening. I don't understand. Everything – everything's so sudden, and so disjointed…you don't mean it when you say you'll stay with me…there could be danger…"

"I promise".

**

_So, the little slut knows? Damn it. She can't live. Nor can the man, the man who got away from me._

_ _

_I'll make her pay._

_I'll make them both pay._

_ _

**

So, what do you think? Is it flowing well? Give me some feed back, please? If you have any suggestions, please tell me, I'd appreciate it a lot.


	3. Dancing the love away

Dance, dance, dance? 

**Please read + review!**

**

Any lead on the girl?

Nick raked a hand through his sandy hair and puffed exhaustedly. He couldn't understand it. The girl in the photo looked so open, so honest. And her eyes…the eyes that so resembled Melody's. He gazed at the clock on the wall and imagined her beautiful face, the face with such clearness of skin, the brilliance of the eyes, and the sweet curve of the mouth. A breeze ruffled her hair, and she smiled wistfully before disappearing into the filing cabinet. He glanced down at the picture again and thoughtfully reached for the telephone.

Nick was a handsome man in his early thirties. His ashy blonde hair was slightly ridged near his centre parting and fell in choppy bangs across his forehead and eyes. His eyes were a peculiar colour; they changed with the weather. When the sun shone, they were a dusky green. At night, they were blue, ringed with hazel. And when he was upset, and it was cloudy, his eyes would smoke over with a light grey. 

He reached for numbers on the keypad, but before he could, the telephone started ringing. He picked it up and his expression immediately changed.

"Sighted? With a tall, blonde man, you say? Boyfriend? Oh. Yes, I understand it isn't much to go on. Where, exactly did you say?"

He reached for a pen, and scribbled down the name of a popular coastal café, many miles away from Balamb.

**

"Stop grumbling. We were lucky. The last car in the last rental place in town." , Seifer gently reminded Quistis. She rolled her eyes and turned towards the window, fascinating in the rolling hills that flashed by. Why was she even doing this? With him, someone who wasn't even involved in this? But now…

Now he was involved in this, right up to his mocking green eyes.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know".

Quistis slammed her hand down on the dashboard. The car swerved slightly. It was dark outside, the road only illuminated by a few flickering road lights. 

"Damnit, Seifer! What are you running from? I have my problems, I have my own places to run to! Why can't you tell me the truth? I don't need this! I could be miles from here, finding a new home, on the run, being hunted…avoiding authorities, the sorts of things that panicked, innocent fugitives do! You could be running from whatever you're running from! Either tell me, or get out of this car!"

Seifer turned towards her, his eyes full ofan unreadable emotion. "Fine. I'll tell you."

He pulled over at the side of the road and turned towards her, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"After Ultimecia's defeat, I went to live in Fisherman's Horizon. I had decided to make something out of my life. I – I met a guy, a guy called Canon. He was a nice guy, working at the local café. We got to know eachother well.

Over the days, weeks, months, he was growing oppressed, edgy. I often asked him what was wrong, but he could never tell me. Then one day, he called me and asked to meet me at the marina. It was raining. I remember the wind, and the waves. It was so clear. I knew there was something wrong.

I went to the marina and saw – and saw Canon being pushed into a boat with this other guy. He – he had a gun. He was shouting, screaming about some girl, some Megan, Mella, I don't know. I only heard a few words, but I remember him saying; "I asked you to spy on her; not to fall in love with her!" Then the man turned around and saw me, aimed the gun at me. He fired, and hit my arm. He said – "You can't live. I want you too." He told me my name, my address, personal things I thought nobody knew. He told me he'd find me, wherever I went. Then I…"

Quistis looked searchingly into his eyes. "Then?"

"I fainted. That's all I know."

Something changed, so subtly, in Seifer's face. "I'm telling the truth."

Quistis nodded slowly. "Show me your arm."

Seifer rolled up his coat sleeve to show an ugly wound where the bullet pierced his arm. Quistis touched it, tentatively. "I'm sorry". Something small was nagging at the back of her mind. Something…impossible. But – 

"What did Canon look like? What – what was he wearing?"

"Tall, dark guy, with those mysterious eyes. He was wearing a trenchcoat, black. I think, at least…Quistis?"

For Quistis had shrunk back in her seat and was staring at Seifer with utter disbelief. "That's him."

"Who?"

"The dead man in my dormitory."

**

"Why are we here?"

"To forget, of course!"

Quistis and Seifer were sitting in an old-fashioned disco bar in the small town of Salgo. Both were tired, both were restless. 

"The music will make you feel free!" Insisted Seifer as he drained the last of his fruit punch and dragged Quistis onto the dance floor. "Come on…"

The music was upbeat, with a pulsing bass that ran through Quistis' body. Seifer roughly took her arms and led her in the sexy, wild dance to the music. "Loosen up. Move your hips…" he swayed against her "like this". Quistis could only laugh at Seifer's wild attempts to make her trendier. Why not let go? She had so many troubles, so many unanswered questions. This wasn't the sort of thing you'd expect the heroine to do; find out that there was a terrible link between her, her former student, and a deadly spying trail, and instantly head to the nearest disco to dance the night away with the said former student. But…it did feel good.

Seifer dipped her back in a tango style, and her head span. She swayed her hips and moved her arms, wrapping them around his. The music changed to a pulsing, soft, dance. Quistis started to pull away. The moves to this one were too embarrassing even for her, in her state of intoxication.

"No, come on", Seifer insisted. "It'll be fun. Come on, you old hag."

He gently took her hand and led her back to the dance floor. He had been so rough before, but now he was gentle, as if she was special to him. As if she was an individual. Which she had never been before. 

She backed up into his arms and he wrapped them around her waist. His head rested lightly on the top of her hair. He breathed in deeply, and hoped that she wouldn't notice. They swayed gently, their hips moving in time, his fingers moving gently across her arms.

You'll never find a way 

_To escape this day_

_This feeling_

_I should be holding you_

_Touching you_

How would I ever know? 

"Quistis…don't worry. It's going to be okay."

He sensed she was smiling and gently kissed the top of her head. She was so vulnerable. What was this?

Love's maze is a swaying kaleidoscope 

_All paths leading different ways_

_Love's maze is a hatter's mad party-time_

_One path that the piper plays_

_You'll wander round for days inside_

_Cupid never pays…_

_ _

He swivelled her around so that she was facing him. There was a slight flush in her cheeks, and a sheen on her hair from the tacky disco lights. She smelled faintly of bedclothes in summertime, of cosy furnaces, of empty apartments.

"Seifer…I don't understand…"

"Understanding doesn't matter…"

She smiled slightly, and said something rather random. The words tripped off her tongue, stupidly. "Your scar's fading."

"Scars don't matter either."

His lips brushed against hers, and she trembled slightly. He sensed her tenseness and drew away.

"I'm sorry…"

"No, Seifer, it's not you. I…I just don't know. I'm not ready. I just – I just can't handle it right now…"

The imperceptible light in his eyes flickered. He put his hands on her shoulders and began to sway again , almost mechanically to the music, which was onto its last lines now. Quistis lowered her eyes and let him lead her. The feeling, the tension was gone.

I don't know how to love you 

_Do I, should I?_

_Love's maze confuses me so_

_But I never want to let you go_

_How can I let you know_

_That I want you_

_But can't admit that I love you so?_

_ _

_**_

_ _

TADA! Okay, please review! And, stupid f..net never seems to put my stuff up, so please review to let me know you can read this!


	4. Inconsequence

Paavana Lakshmi Kumar Normal Paavana Lakshmi Kumar 13 42 2001-10-30T18:11:00Z 2001-11-02T18:14:00Z 3 981 5592 46 11 6867 9.2720 Inconsequence 

Sorry this took so long, but with ff.net's problems, it was ages before I was able to upload this.

Enjoy!!

**

Nick leant over the desk, his tender green eyes full of sarcasm and bitterness. 

"So they just _flew_ away, did they?"

"I told you all I can, Mister. I done no wrong, in giving them the tea, Mister? Pretty little thing, she was, and I aint never going to turn down no gel, when all she asked for was a half cup decaf?"

The petite, waif-like young girl stared at the agent from behind the desk of the small coastal café, with enormous dark eyes. She wasn't altogether pretty; she was too thin for that, but he knew that she spoke the truth. Nick sighed and pushed a strand of sandy hair out of his eyes. He knew that girl was …well, she wasn't all she seemed. It was something more deep, more complex. That man, in her dormitory…her friends didn't know him, they said Quistis didn't know him. But then, why did she run?

He thanked the girl for her time and left the café. Quistis was no more than a kid. A kid with half the country's police looking for her, her face worth a thousand words…yet when a gun spoke, her life would end. Licensed to kill…he shuddered. He dropped his head in his hands, and an image flashed in his mind…a sweet, beautiful face…

She whipped around, her lovely features contorted with fear. Her blue-green eyes opened wide and her hair blew desperately in the wind. Tears streamed down her porcelain skin. 

_"No! Wait! Maybe you don't know everything! It's something, so much deeper, more complex than you realise…I'm innocent…"_

_"You killed a man." Said the bullets. "You killed him…"_

_"NO! I didn't kill anybody! Seifer!"_

_Seifer?_

_No man came to her rescue._

_The bullets spoke, and the slender girl crumpled, a crimson stain spreading across her fitted tunic. Her hair became black, her skin paler…_

"NO!"

Jeff realised he had spoken out loud. The vision had taken him back to the morgue, where he'd identified Melody's bullet-riddled body.

Quistis was innocent. He realised that. But if he couldn't find her, how could he prove it? And what if the police, the bullets found her first?

A fly buzzed drunkenly past, a stupid, inconsequent thing.

**

Quistis moaned and turned over in the narrow hotel bed. What a horrible dream…

Dream? Maybe it was all a dream!

No. She opened her eyes and found herself in the dingy motel room. Seifer lay in the next bed – they hadn't been able to afford two rooms. A flake of plaster dislodged from the ceiling and fluttered down to rest on his nose. Quistis rose and sat next to him on the bed.

Last night, she had been so close. Why had she panicked? Why hadn't she let him kiss her? She didn't know whether she was falling for him, exactly…he'd never been her type. But what she felt when she looked close at his expression, at the vulnerability he always tried to mask…he'd gotten under her skin in a way nobody else ever had. She looked across the room. Plaster peeling forlornly, the moulting brown bedspreads, threadbare already where her huddled body had rested during the cold night. The she looked down at Seifer's face.

His skin was pale and creamy. The scar that had once marred the smooth expanse of forehead stood, pale and proud, a testament to his nature. His hair shone slightly in the dingy light, the gold etchings between the short bangs winking up at her. His eyes were closed, the dark eyelashes just touching his skin. She could imagine the striking, green, glass-rippled eyes beneath. She reached out a hand tentatively and touched his cheek. It was warm, alive. Reassuring.

Oh, if she could just have another chance like last night.

**

"Are we near a town? Anywhere?"

"I think there's a town somewhere near here, on the map. It's called Canon, or Canwan, or something…"

"After what happened last night at the hotel…oh, Quisty, do you realise that we can't stay overnight anywhere anymore? I'm an accomplice, Damnit, and you're a criminal. Everyone on the continent knows our faces now. We were seen at the café. We were spotted at the hotel. We only just got out of there in time!"

"Lucky you were able to flirt with the girl on the desk to borrow her car." Commented Quistis drily. They hadn't been able to take any chances, that was for sure.

"What else was I supposed to do? The entire world knows our old license plate number…"

Quistis gripped the steering wheel tightly and manoeuvred the car down the narrow, winding road. The sky was cloudless, azure. It should have been raining, she thought angrily, squinting through the windshield. 

"Is that a signpost up ahead?"

For the first time in days, Quistis felt a spark of hope. Perhaps from here, she could telephone Squall and let him know what had happened. The crummy phone in the hotel hadn't even had a receiver. 

"Pull over, Seifer!" She exclaimed. "I think we've found Canwan!"

**

"Wear a scarf over your hair. People will notice a blonde."

Well, more like brown from the dust, thought Quistis. She hadn't washed in days now. She knotted the scarf around her chin. 

"There's a telephone! Look, Seifer, buy a map. There isn't time for thinking ahead. Let nobody get a good look at your face."

Quistis hurried over to the telephone and gripped the receiver. In a flash, she dialled Squall's number and waited, hoping, praying…she cradled the slim plastic body of the telephone as it rang, rang…

"Quistis?"

Squall's voice sounded tired and thick, but he exclaimed her name hopefully, eagerly. Quistis felt a pang at the old, familiar, trustworthy tone. She was in danger, terrible danger. If police found her, they would shoot. She was, apparently, armed and dangerous. How was she supposed to tell Squall all this when all he knew was what had been announced on the news? At any moment, someone in this town could spot them and ring the police. In the distance, she saw Seifer enter a small alley shop.

"Squall – I – we…"

Suddenly, too suddenly, Quistis heard shots in the background. In a blur, she saw Seifer running towards her. He pulled her away from the telephone roughly, and dragged her towards the car. Quistis was about to ask what was happening, when she noticed the uniformed men with guns running behind them. Her mouth went dry.

"Quistis!" Seifer's voice was panicked, unlike him. "What are we going to do?"

"Turn ourselves in, I guess…" Quistis couldn't face the thought of running from the police. 

"You think they'll believe us?" Seifer pushed her into the car and started it with trembling fingers. The men were shooting, the bullets bouncing off the sides of the car. "We'll be dead before we get a word in edgeways, don't you understand? DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?? Damnit Quistis, we're armed and dangerous to them!"

It was happening so fast, so fast. How were they spotted? Where did the police come from?

"Oh god, Seifer!" moaned Quistis as the car jolted along an unpaved road, away from the men, away from the guns. "I can't believe we're running from the police…"

**

"Quistis!" cried Squall hoarsely down the telephone. 

Two shots, and silence. Was she….

It was too terrible to think about. Quistis, alone, on the run…

Oh, he knew she hadn't done it. But the stupid, silly woman, running, running, and incriminating herself. Who would listen to him now? He had to find her, prove her innocence.

The first, the only thing he could do, was trace her call.

**

Miles and miles away, a man dressed in black fired one fatal shot.

**

Please review! You wanna continue???? Then review!


	5. Running from the Police

Paavana Lakshmi Kumar Normal Paavana Lakshmi Kumar 13 33 2001-11-09T17:05:00Z 2001-11-09T17:38:00Z 3 1006 5737 47 11 7045 9.2720 Running from the POLICE… 

**Sorry this took so long, people! I promise I'll be quicker with the next part!**

**I TURN FOURTEEN IN SEVEN DAYS!!! WOOOHOOOOO!**

Yes, well. On with the story!!

**

Seifer looked at Quistis sideways. She brushed something off her cheek, as if angrily wiping something away. Dammit. How had he gotten mixed up in all this?

Or was it…. How had he gotten _her_ mixed up in all this? Because their two mysteries, their two murders, the kidnapping – they were all connected. Quistis and he were part of the same vicious murder mystery, they were players in the same vicious play. The man who had taken Canon – the man who probably killed him in Quistis's room, was still on the loose. And he was the only man in the world who could identify him. _He's probably looking for me_, thought Seifer dully, as he stepped violently on the accelerator. The last words the man had shouted at Canon, and then at him…

The man in the trenchcoat roughly pushed Canon into the boat. The dark-eyed, dark-haired man looked terrified, his soaking bangs of black hair falling into his shining, hollow, eyes. A flame, a murderous blue flame twisted in the eyes of his attacker as he spat out the words at Canon, his friend, Canon – "I told you to spy on her! Not to fall in love with her!" 

_Rain, opaque sheets, falling into his eyes, his hair, splashing down his front, obscuring his vision – rain, pearly iridescent sheets of desire, of senses, of murder, of translucency – _

_The man stared at him for a second._

_"You can't live! I want you too!"_

_A barrel, the barrel of a gun gleaming blackly in the night. It flashed and ripped through the air before his eyes, and a searing pain shot into his arm. The man was telling him, his name, his address, things he thought nobody knew – everything, everything. Who was he, what did he want? Who was the girl the man had been talking about? Who – why – _

_The pain became more and more intense, and - _

The car jolted and Quistis was jerked forward in her seat.

"Do we have to drive – so fast…?" She whispered brokenly.

Seifer didn't answer. It was a hypothetical question, after all.

"The police are onto us. They've probably traced your call. The people in the towns know who we are."

"What happened? In the town? Oh god, Squall's probably – I don't want to know what he must be going through, not knowing…"

"I went in to ask for a map. The girl on the counter was friendly enough, chatty. I tried to keep my head lowered. Her mother was on the telephone. I thought nothing of it. It was going well, until she asked for the money – I leant across the counter – and she saw my arm…

I grabbed the map and ran, but her mother had been calling the police. She already knew who I was, but didn't want to alert me to that fact. The police were waiting for me outside. I ran. I ran."

His voice sounded dull, colourless. He was having trouble expressing himself, thought Quistis. They both needed a break. But where could they find one? Where? She remained silent, and stabbed at the radio. A crackly radio station broke through the worn speakers.

I could give my tomorrows for just a few more yesterdays 

_I could let go of passion just for you_

_Because I love your eyes, and will always_

_I just want a few more yesterdays_

Quistis frowned and closed her eyes. She had prayed for a few more tomorrows – yesterday had been awful.

A sound from the backseat caused her eyes to snap open. Seifer's expression told her the exact same thing.

Before they had time to look around, she felt cold metal on her neck, and a rough, gloved hand over her mouth.

**

"Howdy" said a voice from behind her. "Now your friend Seifer here's gonna keep on drivin', otherwise his little blondie's gonna get blasted. Understand, Seifer, pal? That's good." He finished affably. Quistis' body was trembling, rigid. Who was this man, why was he in the car? How had they not noticed?

"Now the deal is, your boyfriend here's gonna get done in. Get that? Done in. He's not been so good to me, ya know? And you – well, I was gonna have you spied on, but that didn't work out. Poor old Canon. Things really didn't work out for him, did they?"

I asked you to spy on her…not fall in love with her… 

"You killed him! You killed Canon!" Seifer spat out at the driving wheel. "Why did you want him to spy on Quistis? And why did you kill him when he fell in love with her?"

Quistis' face was a mask of astonishment – and terror, of course – she still had a gun pressed ominously into the base of her neck.

"Fall in love with me? But I – I didn't know him…"

"Righto."  The man was holding her hair, wrenching it, twisting it. "Ya see, Canon was masquerading as a SeeD student. I told him to be obscure, let you not see him. Unfortunately, he developed a little crush on you. So he died – conveniently – in your room. That's where he'd be happy…" ended her attacker on a mock pious note.

"Where do you want me to drive?" asked Seifer grimly. His teeth were clenched. Tears started down Quistis' cheeks. She couldn't let him die. Not after – not after – 

"NO!" She screamed, wrenching free from her attacker with a force she didn't know that she had. Elbowing him hard in the ribs, she fumbled for the gun. She found her hand closing over cold metal, arms, flailing. His hand grasped her wrist and pulled with terrifying force, but she broke free, falling backwards into Seifer – the car careened out of control – it was skidding, halting – she could feel Seifer's warm hands trying to pull her assailant off her – blackness, redness – she fell out of the wrecked car door onto concrete, she was pulling herself upright, over a huddled body - 

She was standing upright, pointing the gun at her aggressor. Her hands were trembling so fast they looked steady. "Don't move."

Her voice was surprisingly level and steady. "Tell me why you were spying on me. Tell me what this is all about. Tell me. Don't move closer. I'll shoot. I swear I will. Give me a reason, and I swear I will."

She looked into his eyes, then past his eyes, and saw Seifer lying, immobile on the ground. She followed a trail of debris to the ruined car, smashed against a wall on the side of the road. She desperately wanted to go to him, touch him, help him – but she couldn't let her attacker see a moment of weakness.

Please be all right, Seifer… 

She turned back to her attacker. His eyes were set, determined. He relaxed slightly, and Quistis automatically relaxed her hold on the gun – 

"BITCH!"

Suddenly, he was flying towards her, knocking the gun out of her grasp, slamming her down on the hard ground. He was on top of her, his hands around her throat, shaking her, strangling her – she was letting out small, pathetic cries as the air was squeezed out of her throat. This was it. She would die. All this was for nothing…

Seifer – please 

**

TADA! Please tell me if you would like a continue, and I would appreciate reviews to tell me your opinions!


	6. The small paper packet

**Seifer to the rescue!**

Sorry this part took so long, ppl. I promise another will be on the way very very soon!

**

_Seifer?_

_No, he's not Seifer. His hair is darker – even though this place seems to be full of fog, I can see that his eyes are blue-violet, not jade green like Seifer's. What was the last thing I saw? I don't remember fog, mist and darkness. Are we lost? Are we travellers in the Antarctic? This place looks of broken windows, smells of broken hearts._

_I can see, yet I cannot take in, move, or speak. The room is rectangular, office-like. There is a faint beam of moonlight falling through one of the windows. The floor is parquet, the chairs plush and black in their leather. The man is sitting in the chair opposite me. His murderous hands are doing something to mine. Something is jerking at my wrists, scraping and chafing. Rope? String? Who knows? Some veil draws a film over my eyes. I try to draw a breath but the effort hurts me. Something hurts at my throat. I can still feel the pressure there. I look down with an effort and see cuts and scratches on my arms. Bruises, too. How did I get them?_

_Please let this be a dream._

_It all seems so quiet, here in my head, yet I know someone is shouting, here in this room. I can see feet moving, fists moving, groans, shouts, tears, but I cannot respond. Seifer is shouting for me, shouting, but I cannot move._

_What is wrong with me?_

_Please let this be a dream. Please let this be a dream. Please let…please let…dream…_

"QUISTY! PLEASE! WAKE UP!"

Quistis' eyes finally snapped open. So it had been a dream! The fog cleared and she shook her head, expecting to see her own dear bedroom, and Seifer shaking her awake. Instead, she saw Seifer being held roughly with his back to her, a gun pressed against the leather of his jacket. 

"Quistis…please don't be dead…"

"I'm fine." She reassured him, knowing that, although she couldn't see his face, tears were coursing down his cheeks. _Pure Almasy style, _she thought, _the one time he cries and his face is turned. _

The man sitting opposite her smiled silkily at her. She recognised him as the man who had knocked her unconscious. Yes, the blue flame twisting in his eyes was unmistakeable. She couldn't understand why they wanted her. Her, of all people…

"Why do you want me? Why were you spying on me, and why do you need Seifer?"

"Well, what we're trying to get out of him…" said the man conversationally. "See, Canon wasn't too honest with us, Quistis. He was in the drugs business, the smuggling business, any business that seems dishonest. Very dishonest fellow, implicating fellows left and right. Now he had a very important package. And, of course, he gave this package to his partner in crime. Now this partner in crime, when questioned, gave a false name regarding the person who had the package. You, namely. And now, having gotten this information from the said partner in crime, we are going to proceed to find out where the package REALLY is. Oh, by the way, my name's Jeff", he added as an afterthought.

Quistis glared at him, her mind spinning. "Yes, but what does this partner in crime have to do with now, with us? And how did he know me? Who would implicate me in a drugs ring?"

"My, my, you are slow on the uptake. Who would betray you, endanger your life, and lie to you, better than your good friend Seifer Almasy? He needed some information out of you. I admit he did a good job, _romancing_ it out of your pretty little mouth."

Seifer?

Quistis stared at his lean form. It was rigid, trembling. Silent. He had never uttered a word. "That's preposterous." She said shakily. "Seifer wouldn't do that. He – he – he cares about me…"

"Go on then" said Jeff amusedly. _He finds us funny,_ thought Quistis. _He's playing a game. I don't believe a word of anything he says…it isn't true, its it? It can't be true. All those things Seifer said, they were genuine. They must have been…_

"Tell her, Seifer. Tell her the truth."

Oh, god…

"Seifer, it's not true…"

He never uttered a word. He stood there, his body shaking uncontrollably. If she could have seen his face, she would have seen a forlorn, lost, tortured expression, the tears marring the white, white skin.

"Oh, god…"

Quistis felt the tears coursing down her own cheeks. A stray wisp of gold hair fell into her eyes, but she could not lift her arms from where they were bound on her chair to brush it away. Everything he'd said and done, was a lie…

"No time for sentimentalities now, I'm sure" interrupted Jeff brusquely. He got up from his armchair and put a hand on Quistis' shoulder. She flinched at his touch, but all he did was entwine his fingers in her blonde hair. She tried to pull away, but she found that he'd cut no corners when tying her securely.

"Now, Seifer", said Jeff dangerously. "Where's that package?" 

Seifer remained silent. How dare he? He wouldn't reveal anything to them, not after what had just happened. Quistis would never trust him again. But how could he tell her the truth in front of this maniac? No. Canon had been his friend, and he wouldn't betray him. He would never tell Jeff where the damn thing was. He hated it right now, with a vehemence even stronger than the contempt he felt for Jeff and the compassion he felt for Quistis…

"I won't tell you" he said in a clear voice, much more confident than he felt. "You can't make me." Although he couldn't see Jeff's face, he knew that the cogs were working underneath his skull. If he shot Seifer, he'd never find out where the package was. Seifer had him where he wanted him.

"Oh can't I?" Jeff sounded triumphant. Seifer's heart sank, and he shivered. He didn't like that voice…

With one fluid action, Jeff twisted Quistis' arm around, kneeing her in the stomach and never loosing his other hand from her hair where it wrenched painfully. Quistis swallowed a whimper of pain. She knew what he was trying to do to Seifer. If he heard her being hurt, he would tell Jeff everything. And, although Quistis had almost no idea what Seifer was hiding, she could guess that it was best for Jeff not to find out.

"What's going on?" asked Seifer through his teeth. Quistis could tell that his teeth were clenched tightly together.

"Well, Seifer. Unless you tell us soon, we're just going to have to…"

He beckoned to one of the men holding Seifer. In a flash, Seifer had been wheeled around roughly, with the gun pointing at his collarbone now, and she had been struck savagely across the face. Her arm was agony, twisting further and further…she tried to swallow the scream, tried to hold back the tears, but they came…

"STOP IT!"

Seifer's voice was hysterical, bewildered. He didn't know what to do, she thought dimly. How unlike him…

"I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything! Just…"

He swallowed and took a deep, shaky breath.

"Just stop hurting her."

Quistis felt the pressure lift from her arm and she clutched it instinctively. She was on the floor – she hadn't realised. She bit her lip. She'd let him down, so badly. She looked up at him, and he was suddenly small, fragile, his hair sticking up in ruffles like a baby seal's. _You darling, _she thought silently, but said nothing. His face was lined and weary. It occurred to her how much pride he had. She could trust him…

But of course, he had lied to her.

She looked again at the lined and fatigued face. _You are so much older…_

This happened in a split second, before she was roughly hauled off the floor and shoved into somebody's grasp. The touch of the cold fingers on her skin made her feel dirty. The unshed tears made her eyes burn, her lashes fluttering in pain and humiliation.

"So, Seifer. The package."

There was a split second in which Quistis' sapphire eyes met Seifer's emerald ones. Understanding flashed between them. The shred of doubt that had been fluttering, the little scraps of anguish between them, swirled into a gutter. She could trust him…she understood his pain…it was like they were one person. Did she…

Before she had time to explore what exactly it was she felt, Seifer thrust a hand deep into his gunblade case and drew out a small, thin, paper packet. Quistis strained her eyes to see what it was, but Jeff was blocking her view. In an instant, he snatched the packet away from Seifer and stared at it greedily. "Yes…" he muttered. "Oh, yes…"

"Will you let us go now?" Seifer asked through his teeth, looking at Quistis all the while. 

"Of course not. You'll have to die."

What happened next, when Quistis looked back on it, was somewhat of a blur, even still. She remembered a struggle, scufflings and gunshots, and being trampled painfully onto the hard stone floor. Fragments of memories glared out at her – Seifer's warm weight on top of her, shielding her…a swish, ripping noises, and screams of pain. Warm and wet…blood on her hands and knees, whether it was hers she didn't know.

A dead weight, falling on top of her. Her hand, being grasped and her body being lifted away. Cold air, outside, wind and sunshine, pouring down on her face. She remembered opening her eyes and seeing dead bodies sprawled on the floor, blood seeping through their clothes. Seifer's arms had been strong and warm, the light pressure of his gunblade against her body gently reassuring. 

Most of all, she remembered her hands, closing over a small, paper packet.

**

Please review with some constructive comments – they would be MUCH appreciated! Thank you for reading, and the next part will be better and longer, I promise.


	7. Diamonds

Diamonds 

Thanks for all the reviews! Here's my next chapter! Rolluprollup, and please don't forget to tell me ur opinion at the bottom!

**

"Quistis…Quistis!"

Seifer Almasy bent over the slim figure sprawled on the dewy grass. Her golden-blonde hair was spattered with a network of intricate raindrops, which grew more prismatic and more beautiful as the dusky rain started to fall. They beaded her eyelashes and lay untouched on her white skin, mingling with the raindrops that dropped from his eyes onto her lovely face. Rain sliding down glass, mixing the colours…

She looked elegant, even sprawled on the grass. Her face glimmered with the lights of the setting sun, which cast its burnished glow over the hills, the tops of the densely packed trees. 

It had been three hours since he had staggered, worn but full of adrenalin, his gunblade stained with Jeff's blood. Quistis had been warm and comforting in his arms. For two hours he had staggered on and on, as the sun lowered itself in the sky, from violet to red to pink, as the lights reflected away from Quistis' beautiful, motionless, golden head. Exhaustion had pumped through his body, a strange feeling, a wonderful and fulfilling feeling fuelling him to go on. The feeling…he hadn't felt it before. It made him feel complete.

            And, an hour ago he had found this clearing, bluebells carpeting the dewy grass, trees hemming in from all sides. He had lain her slender and delicate frame down, washed her immobile and passive countenance with water from a nearby stream, fanned her with his hands. She hadn't stirred, but her pulse, faint and thready, beat uncertainly at her wrists and neck. Seifer bent over her once more and kissed her rain-studded forehead, nuzzled her cold neck. Why hadn't he told her before?

Quistis, Quistis, Quistis…everything he had done here, it had been for her. Every slash of his gunblade, it had been before. And now, here she was, dead or dying…and…he was helpless. For once, he knew nothing of what to do. What….

_I love you._

He saw now the red weal on her cheek starting to swell. He traced it gently with his finger. You found it in the strangest places…

Saw the signs, wasn't right 

_I was stupid, for a while_

Swept away…by you… 

_And now I feel like a fool_

Did she ever really know? He closed his eyes to combat the wave of misery that threatened to overcome him. The wind brushed across her face, making it seem as if her eyelashes were fluttering. But, the wind could play tricks, deceive. Nature could deceive so terribly…He looked upwards at the hazy sky, and for an ephemeral second, it seemed as if the burnished, reddish glow of the setting sun had wings, tiny, golden strips of cloud drifting languorously across the purple mist of the sky. 

So confused, my heart's bruised Was I ever loved by you..? He looked up at the radiant sunset, and looked down at Quistis' lovely face, and saw no difference there. He leant down and held Quistis' hand gently, tentatively. Out of reach, too far… Music, soft music as the wind blew slowly through the grass, was playing. Out of reach, can't you see We were never meant to be? As Seifer explored Quistis' hand, the shapely fingers, he came across a small object, clasped tightly between her fingers. Gently, but firmly, he prised them open, and saw, astonished, the small paper packet. ** 

Miles away, the man called Nick watches the video of the attractive blonde one more time, in slow motion. He pushes his sandy hair away from his forehead and studies a piece of paper in front of him intently. His face is haggard, unshaven, yet ruggedly handsome, as if he has not shaved for many days. His piercing eyes, however, remain alert, bright, inquisitive. The words scrawled on the  paper in shorthand stand out black, blue, confusing. 

_            He reaches for the telephone, and dials a number…_

_**_

"Seifer?"

Quistis Trepe fluttered open her eyes and peered around at her surroundings. It was sometime shortly after the dusk – the moon was in the sky, shedding a network of moonbeams into the small clearing. Her clothes, face and hair were damp with dew and raindrops. She raised herself onto her elbows and winced as a shooting pain hit her ribs. 

"Oh…" 

She grimaced in pain as she rolled over with difficulty. Her head felt light and groggy, as if she had been breathing too deeply, for too long. She felt a warm weight lying close next to her. She turned her head and saw Seifer lying in the grass beside her, his face damp and haggard, white, pale. A pang of sympathy and pain shot through her – and somehow, this pain was much more difficult to bear.

Was I ever loved by you? 

"Seifer…Seifer…"

Looking back on the moment when she was older, she remembered first and foremost the look, of utter abandonment and joy on Seifer's face when he found himself gazing into her, evidently alive, face. She remembered his arms around her, the way he had tried to hide his tears from her. She remembered his faint musky smell, and his lips kissing her face over and over again, and all the while murmuring..

"You came back…you came back…"

"I had to…"

**

"What's in the packet?"

The bustle of the cheery café in the remote village they had happened on (and very unlikely to have heard of Quistis, or to have seen her face), filled their ears as they talked in low, unobtrusive voices over their undrunk cappuccinos.

"Looks like…a salt packet…"

Seifer held it between finger and thumb, and shook it gingerly. He could hear some sort of granules moving around inside, yielding to his touch like sugar or salt. She was right. "Should I open it?"

"Definitely. How can you protect something when you don't know what it is?"

"Canon gave this to me", said Seifer. "They asked me who had it…I knew it was important, but I thought they would never find you…you were the first person that popped into my head. I'm sorry, so sorry…"

And Quistis knew he was, and that was enough. "Open it…"

Seifer carefully tore open the package and tipped out its contents onto a piece of black material from his gunblade case. Salt crystals…? He picket up one with his finger and scrutinised it carefully. Bringing it closer to his face, he licked the small, multi-faceted translucent crystal.

"Doesn't taste of anything."

He glanced at Quistis, and saw that she had an expression of the utmost astonishment on her face. She was looking wonderingly at the handful of crystals she held in her hand. "Seifer…this isn't salt or sugar. They're fucking diamonds."

**

DADADA! Please review if you want a continue! Thanks!

  


	8. Jewel Heist!

Jewel heist! 

I really hope u guys like this fic, cos its definitely my worst. Please review! I really want to break my record of 126 reviews (Kurse all SeeDs) and this story isn't that much longer. Well it might be. Well a lot longer. (You see, im basically making it up as I go along!!!)

READ AND ENJOY!

**

"Diamonds…?"

"Im positive…"

Quistis whisked them off the table into a small leather pouch she kept tied to the side of her orange dress. "They're so easy to lose." She leaned back over the table and put the pouch firmly down on the smooth surface, looking around to make sure nobody was watching them. A stray strand of hair fell over her face, her clear forehead, down into her transcendentally beautiful eyes. She reached up a hand and tucked it behind her ear. He watched her, mesmerized. So much had happened, he'd seen so many faces, but he couldn't get over what he felt for Quistis. Sure, he'd kissed her, she'd kissed him back, they'd both been overcome with relief and joy. She had been unconscious, he had been sleeping, it was a full-blown, romantic moment, the stars like diamond chips in the sky, the clouds disappearing, dissipating into darkness. He'd hugged her and kissed her face over and over again, while she'd cried into his arms. He – he loved her. And he couldn't believe that he'd lied to her. And that – some day she might find out – 

He looked again into her eyes and was for a split-second soaring over ice-floes, basking in the warm smell of candle-lit dinners, rose-filled apartments, lavender baskets tied with yellow ribbons, ostrich feathers, and the many gems adorning trees along a wide boulevard at sunset. Waterfalls and hearts, dusty carousels in a long forgotten toyshop, held hands and antique teddy bears. And – 

"Seifer."

Her fond voice snapped into his reverie. He blinked, smiled, and looked first at her face, and then at the pouch on the table.

"But diamonds the size of a grain of salt…so easy to lose. They can't be worth all that much. Why did they want it so much?"

Quistis rolled her blue eyes and scraped her long blonde hair off her neck. "Ignorant twit", she said exasperatedly. "Haven't you heard? Have you been living in a hole for the last few months?"

"Maybe…" replied Seifer enigmatically.  He held out his hand to take the piece of newspaper Quistis fished out of her pocket and handed to him. For a fleeting second their hands touched. She was about to draw away, but he covered her hand with his own and looked up at her, slightly embarrassed at his own sappiness. She smiled, and squeezed his hand. "Read it".

He glanced down at the newspaper article, dated about a month before. 

**Miners discover mineral deficiencies in ground!**

Miners have recently found that our small supply of resources are running out as a result of the lava flow from mount Gulug volcano, situated in the middle of our world as we know it, not more than three miles from our own Fisherman's Horizon. The main mineral deficiency is the element carbon, more commonly found in its most rare form, diamond. This means that diamonds are becoming increasingly rare, and even small quantities could be worth millions.

Carbon takes many structures, and diamond in particular is a giant covalent structure, which causes its hard properties due to the bonds between…..

  


Seifer's emerald green eyes narrowed slightly, and he looked at the leather pouch on the table. He opened his mouth to speak, but Quistis leaned over the table and put a finger on his lips.

"Not a word…"

"But the diamonds…"

He stopped, to gaze into her eyes. Her lips were on his cheek now, teasing the skin. "Not another word."

"Why?…Quistis…we have to…"

"Shut up, Seifer. It can wait. Life, death, diamonds….they're – nothing compared to…I mean, as perfect as…not tonight, tonight, we have to – we have to – I…"

She let out a sigh, half gasp and half exclamation, and she cupped his face in her hands, staring deep into his eyes. Nothing, nothing like this she'd ever felt before…

He took her hand from his face and kissed the smooth palm. Getting up from his place, he bent over her and scooped her up into his arms. She giggled, burying her face into his chest, and he stroked the silky hair, kissed the beautiful, delicate face. Music was playing inside his head, and he started to sway to it, knowing that she  could hear it too. He let her down gently, and held her close against him, swaying in the delicate, slow, romantic dance. Her head was resting on his shoulder, her arms loosely around his neck. His hands were placed gently, firmly on her waist, his lips resting on her collarbone. He kissed it gently, then moved his lips along her shoulder, pushing aside the delicate fabric of her dress. He slid a hand under her blouse, gently pressing her back. She raised her head, the candlelight playing off her face. She leant up for another kiss. This one was slow, hard and passionate – her arms tightened around him, and his moved tenderly across her shoulders and back as the kiss deepened – they became faster, more passionate, and his lips moved down to her neck, the curve of her neck and shoulder…

The music rose to a beautiful harmonic crescendo, and Seifer carried Quistis out of the restaurant, away from the staring faces, onto dewy grass, the sound of the river calming and soothing. They needed no silent music to act as aphrodisiacs now – the music of the bubbling river pulsed in rhythm to their kisses, caresses – his lips sought hers again, and he was pressing her down onto the dewy grass, the raindrops shining like diamonds in her hair. Stars shining in the endless blue sky above, the gentle breeze caressing their hot, flushed faces, the moon illuminating their slowly, tenderly moving forms on the grass. It wasn't about the physicality – their touches, their kisses, went much deeper than that. Love wasn't skin deep. They moved gently together, alone, their bodies swaying, their blood pulsing to the silent piano music of the stream. She was beautiful, transcendental, almost immortal in his love for her. A queen – his queen.

Dressed in a crown of dewdrops, a robe of moonlight, and holding the sceptre of love.

**

AWWWW! It's very sappy Iknow. I promise there will be more jewel heist action in the next part! Review please please!!!


	9. Squall

Things get heavy 

Thanks for waiting so long! Enjoy!!

P.S. You need to have read at least up to chapter five to understand this chapter. Remember we left Squall standing by the telephone? No? Reread the chapter!

**

Squall stood by the phone, dumbstruck. He was a little relieved, of course – he had thought she was dead – but of course, those two shots in the background could have changed that in an instant. She'd sounded so frightened, so alone. If only he could find her, tell her things would be ok.  He would never forgive himself if something happened to her…he just wouldn't be able to. He'd always looked up to her, respected her…and now she was out there, needing his help.

Suddenly, he realised how stupid he was being. So stupidly, insanely dumb. Leaving the phone swaying on the hook as if inebriated, he stumbled into his office and picked up his cell phone, dialing in a flurry of digits in an instant. He knew that tracing a call didn't work unless both ends of the phone were off the hook at the time. Hopefully Quistis hadn't had time to hang up when…when what? He pushed the disturbing thought out of his mind and concentrated only on the ringing of the phone at the other end of the line. _Pick up, pick up, pick up…_

"Hello?"

Squall said a quick thank-you prayer to Hyne before breathlessly saying his request.

"Xu? Thank God…we have a lead on Quistis. Can you get me a call traced?"

The urgency in his voice must have made an impression on her, because he could hear her rifling through pages hurriedly. "You know I'm not supposed to…"

"It's life or death, Xu! I mean it! You can do it – if I was there with you, I would look it up myself, I swear. Please…"

A minute later he threw down the phone and grabbed a piece of stationary, scribbling down a name and address…

**

_What do you mean, a system malfunction, you twerp? _Nick ran a hand through his thick, tousled hair for the fourth time in frustration. The first lead they had on their suspect, and there was a _system malfuction. _Great. Just – great. He looked at his slim, pretty colleague, noting the embarrassed, slightly withdrawn expression embellishing her clean-cut, open features and her smooth coffee-coloured skin. How could this be happening? It galled him that he;d blown the chance to pinpoint Quistis' location. Maybe someone would phone in with news about a spotting. 

"We picked up a lead on our suspect when she made a phone call, Nick. We tried to trace it – but we couldn't get through. As I said, there must be something wrong with the machines or something…"

Nick sat down heavily. They'd lost her. Completely and totally. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Melody's beautiful, innocent face, the face with the lovely eyes of Quistis Trepe. Those eyes he thought he would never see again…

_Wise up, Nicky boy. You're supposed to catch the suspect – not fall in love with her!_

The image of Quistis' lovely face with the bold letters, "WANTED FOR MURDER" flashed across his mind. He knew she hadn't done it. He knew. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a shadow in the doorway. Wait – that was Agent Bruton – a mess of beef and brawn, but a valuable asset to the police team. He sat up a little straighter. Sometimes, just sometimes, there could be hope…

"We have a lead. A boy from Balamb just traced a call and we picked it up on our radar. Squall Leonhart – a student at Balamb, calling from his room phone. Would you like a dossier on him? Or should we send some agents around there? He might be…"

Nick sat up, a slow smile spreading across his face. Maybe praying to god really did work. He slid a hand across the smooth, waxy surface of the table, papers wafting gently down around his hand.  "Find that boy and make him tell us everything. Especially if he has a connection with the Trepe character."

He took a deep breath. Then, he slammed a clip of ammunition into his nine-millimetre pistol, shoving the gun into his shoulder holster and heading out of the door. _I will find that girl_, he vowed in a whisper, _and find out the truth. _Yet it seemed obscene, that a murderer and her victim should have the same lovely eyes.

**

Squall put down the phone and bolted towards his door. Now he knew her location, he was planning to drive halfway across the globe to get there, if he had to. Adrenalin pumped through his veins, urging him on forwards. He threw his battered leather jacket over his shoulders, smiling slightly as it squeaked reassuringly. However, just as he reached for the doorknob, the door swung open. Two uniformed officials stood there, poker straight with faces like Dobermans. Squall gulped as he noted the official-looking police badges on their uniforms. What was he going to do now? If they found out he'd traced a call illegally….

One of them was a woman, only of average height, but her self-assured air making her seem much larger. 

"Squall Leonhart? I'm afraid you're not going anywhere, Sir. I'm from the CIA. My colleagues and I have some questions for you. I said, you're not going anywhere," she remanded, moving to block Squall's path. Her hand moved to her hip, parting her blazer just enough to reveal an automatic pistol in a shoulder holster. Squall groaned.

"What do you want?"

"Answers. We know you just spoke with Quistis Trepe. We want to know where she is."

"So you can kill her? How should I know? You're the secret agents, not me."

"Don't get smart, kid. Or we can make you're life real miserable."

Squall grimaced. This girl sounded like something out of a gangster movie. If she hadn't been so much shorter than him, he would have punched her there and then. However…

"If you were bugging my phone, you must know Quistis didn't tell me anything. Why didn't you just trace the call?"

Suddenly, the agent didn't seem so intimidating. "We – had an equipment malfuction."

Squall struggled to keep his smile off his face. He knew where Quistis was – or had been, a few minutes earlier. The CIA, however, knew nothing. If he could only escape from these goons, he might be able to reach Quistis before the CIA and the police – or worse – did. The armed murderer charges against Quistis were a big mistake. But only now was he realising just how badly the situation had ballooned out of proportion. It had expanded to include wiretraps, threats, and a network of agents! And what he was worried of was it exploding, now or later, in Quistis' beautiful, innocent face.

**

"Seifer…"

Quistis mumbled his name into her arm as she turned over on the dewy grass. Someone had thoughtfully placed a blanket over her body, and she snuggled against it, grateful for its warmth. A glow warmer than one the blanket could give her spread through her body as she thought of the blissful night she and Seifer had shared. She was in love with him – she wasn't afraid to admit it. And now – now, he loved her too. Nothing in the world could be more wonderful. She opened her eyes a fraction. The sun was just rising over the hills to the west, suffusing the sky with a beautiful dusky pink, mingled with hot violet. The tops of the trees were burnished with gold. The sun had wings, tiny little golden strips of cloud which beat ephemerally at its sides, spreading gold and indigo from their feathers. A glow was spreading across the horizon, beginning to burnish her golden hair, which fanned out across her shoulders, silky and damp.  She glanced across at Seifer, lying curled up a few feet away, a lock of his tousled blond hair falling over his forehead onto his eyes. Pulling on her uniform, Quistis stood up, and started as a small bag rolled out of her uniform.

_The diamonds…how could I forget?_

She mentally kicked herself. She was in the middle of a major jewel heist, and she'd completely forgotten that they were probably the sole objects of many criminals's unwanted attentions. She dropped on her hands and knees next to Seifer, zipping the bag securely into her waist pocket. Smiling exasperatedly, she began to shake him gently. The lock of hair on his forehead bounced up and down endearingly. In a few seconds, his startlingly verdant eyes fluttered open. A slow smile spread across his face, lighting it up, when he saw Quistis kneeling beside him on the jewelled grass.

"Hey sunshine…"

"Enough of that", she replied, slapping him playfully on the wrist. "In case you hadn't noticed, we have a bag of diamonds on our hands. Priceless, rare diamonds. You interested in high-tailing it out of here?"

"High-tailing it where, Quistis?" Seifer's smile gave way to a frown of concern and exasperation. "You planning to be on the run for the rest of your life? We have to hand that over to the authorities, or we're gonna be watching our back for the rest of our lives! You wanna live like that, Quistis? You wanna live like that?"

"AUTHORITIES! And what happens then? Before we even manage to get arrested for jewel theft, I get nabbled for killing that Canon guy. Seifer, everybody thinks I killed that man! I'm armed and dangerous to them! I'll get shot before either of us get a word in edgeways – you know how they are around here – guilty till proven innocent. And there is NOBODY out there who can prove I didn't shoot that guy, nobody! Not even you! For all you know, I could have – you know…"

He placed a finger on her lips, his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. "This isn't doing us any good. We have to find…you know…"

"But you killed him, Seifer. When we escaped. You killed Jeff…he was the only one who could prove we didn't kill Canon. Because…he killed Canon. But now, we just have…we really are armed and dangerous, Seifer!" Quistis' voice took on a tone of alarm. "We HAVE killed a man! Even if we get wrongfully accused of Canon's murder, we really HAVE committed another one! We're criminals…"

"But it was self-defence…that can't get you jailed on Gaia, can it?"

"I don't know…I just don't know."

The morning was misty, with tiny diamond jewels that sparkled in the mist like silver threads shot through a bridal veil. Quistis sighed. "You're right, Seifer. If we don't find on of Jeff's accomplices, there's no way we can prove we didn't commit those murders. Or, that one of them wasn't in self defence."

"And the diamonds?"

"Give them to the authorities, once we've got our evidence."

"And until then?"

Seifer sighed deeply, looking out across the dawn sky with a pensive expression. "We keep running."

*

_In his mind, Squall replayed Quistis' voice and halting scream._

_And hoped there was still time._

_Some time._

**

TADA! Please review…this story is getting so complex its even confusing me! I like constructive criticism, but I like positive ones even better JJ please review!!!!


	10. Streaks of lightning

Struck by lightning 

MMM. I love writing these fics! Keep those reviews coming to inspire me to write more…slightly disturbing content in this chapter. I said slightly, by my teenage standards. That means using words like "blood" and "scream". So read ahead!!

**

**Setting: (just so u don't get confused) A garden in Asia, the day after Seifer killed Jeff and all those other bad guys. Or he thought he killed them. (hint. Major hint.)**

_Always taciturn and reluctant, she was, at the age of 47, regarded as something of a lone wolf, lacking almost all sense of unity with those around her. From a very young age, (having a tendency to restrain her emotions), she had always had difficulty in coping with frustration and rejection, sinking into bouts of depression over quite trivial matters. As the years slipped by, to avoid this completely, she gradually detached herself from the world around her, immersing herself instead in the world of art; the stroke of a sable brush on a sheet of smooth ivory paper, the bold crimson petals of a poppy. Driven by her ambition, and her inordinate talent, she would lock herself in her room day after day, the sunset shadows flickering across her window, the only witness to these sacred masterpieces._

_Around her neck, (usually swathed in filmy scarves of every shade of blue imaginable), she always wore a slim silver ring threaded onto a slender chain. The ring itself was mostly hidden, far away in the folds and recesses of her neckline. It was an intricately carved charm, bearing the image of a strange, griffin-like creature, and an inscription below it: Eloqui. Every night she would sleep with one hand curled protectively around it, the cool weight reassuring against her willowy, yet wrinkled, artist's fingers, as she dreamed of things she would never remember._

_Now, however, she stood in the deserted garden, the silvered blades of grass licking her feet in time to the swaying of the wind, listening to the faint strains of some streetside violinist. Her face was serene, tranquil; the face of someone who has not yet turned forty; her hair was magnificent, pure white, and recalled silvered clouds roosting upon mountain peaks. As the violin reached a poignant climax, a wave of emotion washed over her face, as a wave crashes over a rock in the sea. It receded just as quickly, but, as a wave leaves water in the hollows of the rock, tears stood in her eyes. She stood, with one hand loosely clasping the silver ring, listened, and remembered._

"Amma! Amma?"

The slim, bronzed maid ran out from the house, holding the battered cordless phone in her right hand. "Phone for you."

Amma took the receiver and retreated into a far corner of the garden, where she could neither be seen, nor heard.

"Jeff…what?I…yes. Of course. I'm with you all the way, of course. No, I don't need to fly out there. As long as you can find those diamonds."

A few moments passed. Amma's tranquil face never gave way. Suddenly, something the person on the other end of the line caught her attention, breaking her façade for a moment.

Her face grew hard.

"Then kill them."

**

"So…where's our first stop? We have to find them. But we have no clue as to where they, or their accomplices could be."

Seifer raked a hand through his blond hair as he peered inquisitively at a speck of dust on the dusty café table. They'd hired a car at this congested city, where nobody would be able to find a filmstar, let alone two "criminals". He moved his spoon around in his coffee moodily. "We have no clues". 

"We do!!"

Quistis' muffled voice became clearer as she came up for air from the piece of paper she was poring over. Seifer leaned over and looked at it. "Looks ordinary enough to me."

"It's a scrap of paper from the packet the diamonds were in. Don't you SEE, Seif? The postmark. It was mailed from…"

"India." Seifer finished. "The accomplices are in India. That's where we have to go, don't you see?"

"We can't afford it…"

Seifer's eyes narrowed. "I'll do anything to get to that country. Whatever the cost."

**

Mark Townsend crouched behind a hot-dog stand in the crowded square. It was blazing hot, muggy and stifling. The gun in his pocket was cool and hard against his slick, sweaty skin. He curled a hand around it protectively, pulling his light coat tighter around him, belting it securely at the waist. He glanced again at the wrinkled picture in his pocket. He smiled slightly at the thought of the amount of money he would get for killing her. He'd always loved violence. He scanned the square again until his eyes landed on her open, innocent face. He smiled slightly, imagining the perfect blonde hair streaked with blood, the mouth open in a scream. He fingered the gun again, a Colt 45, lovingly. The girl was wearing khaki cutoffs, a short ruffled shirt that just exposed her bare midriff. The boy, they wanted to keep alive. He looked smarter than some dumb blonde.

This was going to be fun. Just wait until she left the table and then…

Bam.

**

"I'm going to the corner shop to exchange some of this money, Quisty. Could you go back and pick up the car?"

"Sure thing." Quisty watched his lean figure disappear into the milling crowds with a warm sensation in her heart. She turned to go, but even she was fazed by the crowds. It would take her forever to fight her way through this lot. But wait…

A small sidestreet, almost completely abandoned, led off from the back of the café. If she was correct, it would lead her right back to the rental place. It was worth a shot, and although it was dark and deserted, at least it provided some shade from the heat. Pushing her dark glasses higher on the bridge of her nose, she rose, smoothing down her shirt, and furtively slipped into the alley. As she walked down the narrow street, it seemed to get darker and darker, until the towering walls on either side of her completely hid the sun. She shivered slightly, suddenly wishing she'd brought a cardigan to wrap around her shoulders.

Thump, thump…

What was that? She whirled around, but she saw nothing. Shivering again, she quickened her step. Oh for those milling crowds, again…

So close…so near…

Quistis let out a strangled cry as a strong hand gripped her wrist and jerked her around. She found herself staring up into the face of a rough shaven, tanned man. His eyes held no emotion, no pity. One of his hands was holding her wrist with frightening strength, and the other…held a gun. Quistis treed to twist away, but the stranger jerked her closer to him and pulled her head back by her hair. She bit back a scream.

Seifer…Seifer…help me!

Her sapphire blue eyes looked up into his brown ones, wide with fear, shock, and horror. He slapped her once, twice, and the irises dilated and tears pooled in her eyes. "What do you want?"

"Your life?"

He wrapped a strong arm around her midriff, and she felt the cool metal of a gun against her waist. She trembled slightly, now unable to check the tears streaming down her face. "I don't have the diamonds. You're not going to get away with this! Seifer's going to…"

"Ah, Seifer. Your…" He bent down and kissed Quistis, hard, on the lips. She pulled away, repulsed, but he jabbed the gun harder into her ribcage. "I forgot to tell you. Seifer…is already dead."

Quistis blinked rapidly, and she stopped struggling. Her eyes became wide and vacant, and the colour drained from her cheeks. "You're bluffing," she squeaked, knowing that at any moment, she could burst out into hysterics.

"He is dead, sweetheart. And that's exactly what I've been hoping and praying for. I've been wanting your boyfriend dead for a long, long time. And now…" – he cracked his knuckles – "He's out there, somewhere, lifeless, just waiting for you to join him. He's fish food, Trepe."

"You're lying!"

"Might as well face it. I'm all you've got now."

"NO! NEVER! NEVER!"

Quistis clenched her teeth and swallowed hard. Her hands were sweaty, and her breath rasped in her throat. Drops of water streamed down her face, mingled with the tears.Her body finally felt heavy and weightless all at the same time, as if she could already feel her spirit escaping her body. This was it. Her life was over.

Laughing, the man grapped her by the hair and leaned in close, so close that his face was almost touching hers. "You've really disappointed us, Quistis", he said menacingly, his hot breath violating her pale face. "We thought we could trust you not to get involved in this. But all you ladies do is try to turn us in to the authorities…or try to shoot us." His voice broke into disturbingly unhinged giggles. "It's women like you who make us bad."

"It's women like me who know better than to get involved with disgusting trash like you," Quistis gasped, her neck cramping painfully. "I'd rather be dead."

Releasing his grip, the man took a step back. "Lucky girl," he said. "It looks like you're going to get your wish.

Quistis looked around, but there was nowhere to go. 

"Good-bye, Seifer…" she whispered, her fingers pressing against the brick wall behind her. "I love you…forever." She felt her body let go, almost welcoming death. Anything to escape this endless hell of lies and deceit. She hoped it would be quick and painless. But at this point she was prepared t endure anything. Whatever it was, she wouldn't fight it. This web of criminals had already put her through enough torture. And now Seifer was dead…she had no energy left.

Tears streaming down her face, Quistis steadied her breathing and closed her eyes. Instantly, she recalled Seifer's gorgeous face, sparkling green eyes, the incomparable way he pressed his lips to hers. She felt his arms around her, comforting her, her reverie as she returned his embrace. Soon she'd be with him again…

She closed her eyes once more, trying to concentrate on Seifer's face rather than the fatal air swirling around her.

Mark raised the gun to chest height.

Waited for her inevitable scream of agony.

And shot.

**

Four streets away, Seifer Almasy waited in vain for Quistis at the car rental warehouse.

Waiting.

**

Hehe. Don't kill me yet, wait for the next chapter!

I'd really like some feedback on this, so please review!


	11. Misfire

Misfire 

The title says it all…

Please review! Any criticism, comments, or pickings up on logic holes I could have missed would b greatly appreciated!

**

The lean, blond man stood on the corner of Fifth Avenue, his trenchcoat billowing about his muscular form in the wind. His square jaw and finely structured cheekbones were racked with tension. There was a skittish, almost wild look in his deep green eyes. Something was definitely bothering him.

_Two shadows flickered on the wall behind him. The street was deserted except for a few pigeons fighting over a mouldy scrap of cheese someone had thoughtfully left squashed into the pavement. Everything was silent. The sun blazing down on his back seemed slightly incongruous with the ominous atmosphere._

_The shadows moved slightly to the left and right, dodging out of his line and vision with the skills of panthers. The sun played off his hair until the gleaming strands looked like spun gold._

_Minutes, it could have been hours, passed. The man glanced at his watch, the worry now evident on his face._

_Turning on his heel, he walked away, his pace quickening to a run. He ran down a deserted alleyway, through milling crowds, into a narrow street that was dingy and suddenly much colder than the blazing heat he had just come from. He stopped, seeing something. His mouth formed one word._

_"Quistis?"_

_**_

His trembling fingers pressed the trigger almost on their own as he closed his eyes and heard the fatal bang. No scream of agony, no last words, a muffled choking sound, a soft thud.

He kept his eyes closed after that, but, the curiosity was too much and eventually he peered out from underneath his eyelids. The scene in front of him looked as if it was straight out of a horror movie. No – it was exactly as he had imagined it. She lay, beautiful as an angel, her breathing no longer stirring the wisps of fragrant hair that lay across her face. Her hair didn't look like it had when he first saw her, like golden ribbons, flying in the wind. Now it was more like gold silk, spread out around her pale face like a halo, stained with blood. The slow spreading crimson stain near her collarbone was reaching the edges of her cutoff t-shirt, where it pooled and dripped ominously onto the sidewalk. Her face was white, chalk – white, but beautiful, her eyes finally closed in peace, the tears still wet, their stains still etched on her cheeks. The last delicate blooms of colour were ebbing away from her cheeks. Her eyelashes lay, dark black and naturally curling, splayed out across her eyelids. One hand was flung gracefully across her chest as if in self-defence. Now it was limp, but graceful even in stillness.

Mark stared at his hands, at the crimson body, then back at his hands. Spots of blood danced on them, whether in reality or his imagination he did not know.

I just killed Quistis! I just killed another human being! Oh no – I – how could I – 

_What's going to happen to me?_

"But I didn't kill her", he told himself, rubbing his ice-cold hands together frantically. "My fingers pulled the trigger on their own. I didn't mean to shoot. I didn't mean to kill her. I didn't!"

His stomach clenched as he imagined the horrific terror Quistis must have felt as her last breath left her, then her violent struggle to hold on, trying to remember things about her life, things that were good. Things that she would carry into the blackness of eternal sleep.

And as she sank deeper and deeper into the water of death, her lungs would finally contract in a spasm, forcing the blood to flow freely, until finally, irrevocably, she would be – dead.

Mark looked at her body, trying to shake off the crushing guilt that was weighing upon his dark head. 

Then, he turned and ran, the picture of her crumpled body printed infinitely, indelibly, on his mind.

**

Squall walked between Nick and the woman who had picked him up from his room. "I don't need your help!" he said, scowling as the three entered the secret agent headquarters. "Unless you want to help me rescue Quistis."

Nick looked at him sharply. "I thought you didn't know where she was."

"I don't" Squall lied, with a sidelong glance at Nick. "But I might have some ideas about how to figure out where she is."

"Then the best way you can help is to talk to us," urged Nick, not unkindly. "Believe me, we want to get to the bottom of this just as much as you do."

"Then go with me to find her" Squall pleaded. "It's the only way I'm telling you anything. I swear. I'm not letting you Neanderthals loose on her with those guns…"

"We're ready for the interrogation" said the woman. "Should we take him down to the tech room?" She spoke to Nick, but her eyes never left Squall's face. 

Nick shook his head. "No, I've changed my mind."

Even the woman looked surprised.

"I've decided to take him up to the crime room. Squall seems to be having some trouble with his memory. Maybe something up there will spark it."

"You'd better let us come along" said a large, brutal looking agent with a menacing look at Squall. "You might need our special…expertise."

Squall met his stare, pretending he wasn't terrified out of his wits. "Expertise at what? Let me guess. As an encore, you eat puppies."

"That's right" interjected Nick. "He love 'em with tartar sauce. Now, are you coming with me, Squall, or do you want to see your last few moments of light now?"

"Do I have a choice?" Squall held up his wrist, which was still handcuffed to Nick's. The agent had thrown a raincoat over the cuffs so as not to attract attention as they walked to the secret agent quarters. But the steel but cold and hard into his wrist, a cruel reminder that he was stuck in a relatively safe building in Balamb, while the girl he cared about was far away and in trouble.

The girl he cared about…

Nick hit the button on the elevator, looking at the woman agent. As the elevator bell rang, Nick leaned over to whisper something to her. Squall saw her eyes widen. She nodded. Then, Nick dragged Tom into the elevator.

"He's all yours" she said. "But call me if you need me."

"Nick punched a button."

"Hey!" yelped Squall. "The tech room is on the fourth floor. Why are we going all the way to the roof?"

"Change of plans." Said Nick. The muscular man spoke softly, but his stormy glare silenced Squall.

They stepped out onto the roof of the hotel, and Squall was hit by a blast of icy wind. A helicopter was hovering overhead, whipping the winds around them into a frenzy of noise and movement as it moved onto a nearby helipad.

"Come on," ordered Nick as he pushed Squall towards the helicopter.

Squall blinked back tears. Now he understood. The agents' threats about obstruction of the law hadn't been idle ones. Nick was taking him directly to jail. He'd never find Quistis now.

**

 What Seifer saw lying on the floor in front of him nearly made his heart explode.

"Quisty…?"

His voice was wavering, thready, and unsure. He knelt down and touched her pale skin, his hands coming away sticky with blood. Peeling back her orange cardigan, he saw a bullet hole, leaking with crimson blood, a dried crust of blood already forming around the edges. He plugged the hole with a strip of material from his shirt, but the blood would not stop flowing. Cold tears spilled down his cheeks. This couldn't be happening. Suddenly, a wave of nausea and crushing guilt overcame him, and he was violently sick into the gutter.

After he was done, pale and shaking, he was at her side again, cradling her in his arms. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't be…

Do I run and hide 

_Do I scream and shout_

_Do I feel the pain_

_Let the feeling out_

_I never thought I'd come to this…_

Quistis laughing in the rain…her blue eyes dancing…her bare shoulders gleaming in the moonlight…

"No! No!" Seifer screamed into the deserted alley, shaking with fury and rage. She couldn't be dead, not after all they'd been through. She had more strength in her than that. He'd kill the guy who'd done this, kill him. He bent over her frail form, lifted her wrist and felt for a pulse.

Nothing.

Waves of adrenaline surged through him as he dropped to his knees and began administering CPR. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, dripping into his eyes as he continued breathing into Quistis' mouth and pushing down on her chest. He blocked everything out of his mind except the rhythm…_breathe in, breath out, push, one two three four five, breath in, breathe out…_

Minutes passed, which seemed like hours, but Quistis wasn't responding. Her face remained deathly pale. Seifer's shoulders ached, but he refused to give up hope. _You're gonna make it, Quisty, _he vowed, pushing away any doubt of his girlfriend's recovery.

**

"Stay with me, Quisty! Stay with me!"

With you…I'm going to stay? Squall…Zell…Irvine? 

_No, that wasn't right. Squall was back at garden, being ridiculously authoritative and completely oblivious to the hundreds of crushes girls had on him, as usual. Why, she had once been one of them! But no. Those cute bangs of hair he wore over his head would flutter slightly in the breeze, and a collective sigh from his students would wisp through the room. And Zell? Fighting as usual, ready to defend everyone! And Irvy was probably with Selphie, talking about some picnic they were planning to do today. It was a lovely day. She remembered sun, hazy clouds drifting nomadically over the sky. And then something had happened…_

"Quistis…I love you…

I'm tired, Mummy, let me sleep…no, that wasn't right either. She didn't have a mummy. She'd grown up in an orphanage, the quiet, clever one, teased by everyone else. She'd never had a mummy to run to, a mummy who only had to listen to her problems. Matron had to listen to everybody's, and hadn't cared so much about her in particular. She loved everybody else just as much, She wanted someone who loved her more than anything else in the world. But, she had that, didn't she. In…in…in Seifer. Where was Seifer? He'd gone away. But then, she'd found him…found him again. She loved him more than anything else in the whole world. Where was he?

"Wake up…wake up…see the sun…"

The sun…the moon…sun and moon came out to play, boys and girls came out to play…how did the rhyme go. She sighed and moved between the sheets of the white hospital bed. Was she in hospital?

"Quistis…there's so much I want to say. So much I want to say, and I hope you can hear me. 

When I first met you, I knew that you were someone different. I came from a hard background. My family never had time for me, and when they abandoned me when I was four years old, I was glad to be taken into care. I was always running around after them. I wanted to hear them say, "I love you". They never did, and as a result I would never say the dreaded words to anybody else.

You have a place in my heart which can't ever be replaced. If you lived to be one hundred years old, I would live to be 100 less one day, so I'd never have to go a day without being by your side. The way you smile, the way you talk…that fire in your eyes that makes you you. Even lying there in your hospital bed, your tense grace embodies everything that is Quistis. If you…if you die here, today, you can stay in my heart, in that little place just here, and stay there forever, so you'll always be with me. You can blossom and grow there, and help me with whatever I have to do. That way, I'll never have to be without you. 

It was fate that mad us meet on the train. I'm sorry for lying to you; I'm sorry for anything and everything I've done that's wrong before. I've said horrible things. I've done worse. But when I imagine your face, all the hurt and pain goes out of me, as if I was floating in bliss. When I look at your face, things well up inside of me that I didn't know I had. What was happening to the hard, cold Seifer? Two weeks ago after the train incident, I looked at myself in the mirror, and asked myself, what's happening to me? I answered myself; I'm falling in love. Falling in love with you. 

What we have is special because we can accept eachother's faults. We respect eachother for what we are. I want you to be peaceful in death. Imagine a peaceful scene. Recall a moment of happiness. Hold peaceful thoughts. Soon you will have interior peace. Once again you will rest in heaven.

Hope lights a flame in the soul. In heaven, believe that true love will always exist in my heart for you, and you will, forever be a debutante of my heart. I give my heart and soul to you. If you leave me today, you leave me for your brothers and sisters; the angels…the angels…"

Tears spilled down Seifer's cheeks, his words becoming more and more choked. "The angels in heaven." He gasped. He turned away, resting his head on his knee, sobbing unrestrainedly. Minutes passed.

And Quistis' eyes flickered open.

**

TADA! Please review and tell me if this chapter was just a waste of time. I'm not too experienced and I'd like to know where my faults lie. I'd also like positive feedback (who doesn't!) so  get reviewing! 


	12. Not again...

Ultimeciate bliss 

Thanks for all the supportive reviews! Please review this chapter and give me ur thoughts. 

I was just reading some other fanfics and suddenly I realised how out of character Seifer is in this. If any of you think this is getting too fluffy or too romance-saturated, tell me so I can "try" to salvage it.

**

The helicopter's clatter made it hard for Squall to think. He had failed. He had been caught, without even getting close to reaching the small town where Quistis had called him from. Now, she would probably die – shot dead by an overeager cop, or a secret agent thug like the one in the hotel, or the killer who was really responsible for the body in her room. For all he knew, she could be dead already. And all he would have to show for his efforts would be a prison term for obstructing justice.

He stared out of the open doorway of the helicopter, half blinded by tears of frustration. The secret agent headquarters receded down beneath him. Around it, tiny cars dotted the roads, carefree, their round little late-morning shadows visible beneath them. They swarmed all over the roads as if it was an ordinary day – as if hope was still alive. As the helicopter rose, they merged into the landscape and vanished.

Nick unlocked the handcuffs. For a moment, Squall thought he was going to push him out of the helicopter. Then, Nick turned to him with a grim smile.

"Okay, partner" said Nick. "Now that we've ditched the agents and the rest of them, tell the pilot where we're going so we can get to your friend. Let's find that innocent girl of yours before she gets herself hurt".

**

"Okay, Quisty. You can manage by yourself while I go make a call to Operator? I want to trace the origin of the postmark on the back of that packet of diamonds."

"Seifer, I can manage by myself for two minutes…I have your gun, don't I?" Quistis rolled her eyes and played with the corner of the narrow motel bed's duvet. "I'll just have a shower while you're gone." Quistis got up and involuntarily winced as a slight pain shot through the wound below her collarbone. A hand flew to it involuntarily, and she stifled a whimper. Sure, she'd recovered physically, but as the scar would always be there as a reminder of her ordeal, the mental torture would exist as well.

"Go on, Seifer. I don't need a bodyguard." 

"No kiddin'? I recognise a fighter when I see one, tiger." He wound a strand of her hair around his finger, gently rubbing her back. She closed her eyes, enjoying the soothing, reassuring sensation of his hand. He kissed her on the nose and walked over to the door, his muscular shoulders particularly noticeable in the loose-hanging white shirt he was wearing. He leant back into the room, half-way out of the door. "Take care of yourself while I'm gone, ok? Call reception if you get yourself killed or anything."

She forced herself to smile as she donned a bathrobe and headed into the bathroom. She heard the click of the door which meant Seifer had left. Dropping the towelling robe to the floor, she stepped into the tub and turned on the shower, letting the hot water sluice over her body. It bubbled in rivulets over her nose and mouth, streaming playfully into the contours of her face. She lathered up with generous amounts of the cheap motel soap, enjoying the relaxing sensation, feeling the worries ebb away with the draining away of the water. Her hair glistened with water and fell loosely in damp strands over her neck and forehead, fanning out over her shoulders.  She traced her scars and bruises with her fingers, smiling slightly as she recalled the look on Seifer's face when she had woken up. And as for her…she couldn't remember what life had been like before she began to love him. Sure, she'd known him when he was a boy – a puerile, taunting and somehow reclusive boy. She had been the concerned instructor, teased and humiliated by her mocking student. However, she had always been far too busy with Squall to ever pay much attention to Seifer. Why had she never tried to find out what was underneath his cold exterior, and what emotion those green marbles of eyes could hold? Now, they seemed much less like marbles and much more like real eyes. She had grown to love him with a passion and intensity that astonished even her at times. Their lives had become so entwined in this roller coaster that all her experiences before this week seemed meaningless. They somehow paled against the real fortitude of their love. 

Quistis washed the dust and dirt out of her hair, and closed her eyes as it disappeared down the plughole with the last of her tensions.

**

Jeff crouched outside room number 313 in the small, dingy motel. The suit he'd worn was suitably long-sleeved, to avoid drawing unwanted attention to his injuries. That kid, and his little sidekick now had the diamonds, and he intended to get them back. Both the guys he'd hired for the job of getting the information out of them had failed. Now the only way to get it out of them was to do the job himself. First things first: How was he going to get into their room?

As if timed exactly to his request, an employee rounded the corner, his footsteps muffled in the slightly bobbled carpet. Jeff flagged him down, wincing as the gunshot wound underneath his armpit rubbed painfully against the arm of his suit. He made a mental memo to add this to his list of reasons for wanting to kill the pair of them. He pushed his ash hair out of his eyes as the employee scuttled over. He seemed Brazilian, and spoke with a halting, deliberately slow accent.

"Could you let me into this room, please?" Jeff asked carelessly, figuring it was his best shot.

"That is the Trepe and Almasy room, sir. Do you have a message?"

"Well…" Jeff tried his best to look debonair and dashing. "It's really a surprise. You know…it's her birthday."

"For the lady?" The employee gave him a knowing wink as he opened the catch to the door. As it swung open, Jeff silently cheered inside. How stupid they were, the lot of them. He stepped inside, returning the knowing wink. Closing the door softly behind him, he advanced, panther like, into the room. He heard a shower running. Maybe this would be more entertaining than he thought. He swung open the door to the bathroom softly, and tiptoed into the steamy air. Behind a screen, he saw the girl. He took her in, admiring. She really was beautiful. Part of him felt remorse for having to kill her; the other part of him felt glee and sneaking up on her like this. 

"Good morning."

The shower stopped abruptly. The girl whipped around, and opened the shower doors a crack. In that one instant, he saw the glint of a gun.

"Do you always take a shower with a gun?" He laughed inwardly. The girl wouldn't have the courage to shoot a mouse. He could see it in her eyes. 

"Turn around." She gestured with the gun, pulling on her bathrobe with the other hand. He turned around obediently, catching a glimpse of her in the bathroom mirror. Her honeyed hair was damp and silky, her skin matt with water. Her voice trembled almost imperceptibly, but he picked it up. She was absolutely terrified. He could still see her in the bathroom mirror; she hadn't been showering for long enough for it to have steamed up. 

"Walk. Into the bedroom."

Jeff put his hands up in the air, mocking her with every movement. As if she'd ever have the strength to fight back against him. She looked as if she'd fall over if he blew on her. As he was ushered into the room, he took in the details of the suite with innocent observation. "Nice rug" he commented, as he walked over a patchwork rug made of fabrics of all different textures and colours. "Like the curves." He grinned as she shot him a look filled with daggers. "My sister made that rug," she spat out acidly. "As if you're interested. Sit on the bed. Sit on your hands, so I can see where they are, while I call the police."

Never taking an eye off him, she crossed the room to the telephone. Pointing the gun at him with one hand, she started to dial the number. She took her eyes away from him for a moment, while she punched in the last digit, and…the world tilted crazily sideways as he took he opportunity to pounce. He twisted her arm behind her back, and the small, innocent looking gun fell from her clasp and clattered to the floor. They both fell on to the bed, him pinning her down, her struggling wildly. Finally she fell still, her arm twisted behind her back and his hand grasping her wrist tightly.

"Where are they?"

"What?"

"The diamonds!"

"I…don't know…"

He tugged her arm tighter behind her back.

"I can't tell you!"

Tighter.

"I DON'T KNOW!!!" She bit her lip to hide the screams of anguish which were threatening to escape. He flung her back on the bed and slapped her, once, twice. Her pupils dilated. He grabbed her by the neck of her bathrobe and pulled her closer to him.

"Where are they?"

**

Review please! Next part coming soon, depending on whether u review or not ;). I just want 2 know your opinions. And if you think I'm bashing Quistis way too much, it all has a purpose, it all has a purpose…


	13. Helicopter clatter

YIKES!! 

Thanks for all the constructive reviews, guys!! Just tell me what u think of each chapter, and if you have any comments let me know ;)

**

A smile hovered on Squall's face.

"You believe me?"

To his surprise, his own voice was choked with…he didn't know what with, but what he did know was that he had to find Quistis, had to find her before she got into something over her head…or worse. 

Nick put a hand on Squall's shoulder, his hair moving gently as he breathed. 

"You know, it's hard for me too, Squall, losing somebody who you love.  It happened to me…once. I was too late. I couldn't protect her. If you don't take life's changes, its chances, the opportunities, you're missing what life is trying to give you. So, I'm asking you again…let's find that girl of yours before she gets herself hurt. Or before somebody else hurts her. I think…I think the person Quistis is running from is the person who killed my fiancée. I cannot, will not rest until I find that person. I still think you could be dangerous. I still think you are withholding information. But if there is the slightest chance, the tiniest chance that you might…that you might have a way to find this killer – then I will stick with you, Squall, until the very end. Because I loved her. I loved Melody. That won't ever change. A hundred years couldn't change that."

Silence followed this speech. A tear slid from a cheek and pooled on the floor of the helicopter. A few seconds passed. Wordlessly, Squall leaned forward, craning his neck towards the earpiece of the pilot. Closing his eyes slightly, as if in pain or as if in relief, he whispered a few words from a crumpled piece of paper in his pocket. The pilot nodded, and the helicopter swivelled around, heading off in the opposite direction.

"We're off to see the wizard…" whispered Jeff grimly.

**

Seifer, Indian postmark safely stowed in his pocket, reached out a hand to open the walnut door of the hotel suite – but it was already open.

OPEN?

In slow motion, the door swung open. A broadly built man – Jeff…Seifer replayed the image of Jeff, soaked in blood on his own floor…recalled his eyelashes fluttering as if he was sleeping rather than dead…he was pinning Quistis down on the bed, clutching her by the fragile silk of her bathrobe.

"Don't move" Jeff said in a quite, authoritative voice. Even more authoritative was the gun he whipped out. He pointed it first at Seifer, but then he grabbed Quistis instead. "Give me the diamonds now, Seifer, or your blonde bombshell dies." He wedged the gun barrel against Quistis' temple.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Seifer in a frozen whisper.

"NOW!" Jeff barked. "Or I pull the trigger on the perfect blondie. You know what happened to the last girl who withheld things from me? Pretty girl she was, name like a songbird, high cheekbones, silky black hair"…he wound a finger around Quistis' blonde hair. "Melody was her name." He added as an afterthought. "Pretty, huh? It was tough trying to get past her boyfriend though. A cop, I think he was, lots of muscles, very protective. I was there at the funeral, though he didn't see me…" Jeff trailed off, his conversational tone making Seifer sick to his stomach.

"You're sick. A sick…"

The gun was trembling against Quistis' temple. Her face was as white as bone. Seifer nodded wordlessly, slid a hand into his pocket and brought out the crumpled package…

Footsteps echoed outside the hotel suite. Jeff swore under his breath, leaping up from the bed and darting to the window.

"Don't think the last of this is over, darlings. I'll find you."

With that, he was gone. 

**

I know this chapter was short! But I have lots of work going on and this was really a transitional chapter. Review if you would like me to keep this story going, ok? I would LOVE loads of feedback!!!


	14. Remember me

Remember me 

The moon shone down hazily. It illuminated many things; a small nook off the side of the road that led into a tiny clearing, surrounded by scrawny trees and bushes. A few bare patches of ground covered sparsely with grass. Seifer and Quistis lay side by side on the damp grass, not speaking or moving. Seifer's jacket was draped over Quistis' shoulders, but she still shivered with a mortal fear. She didn't understand where she could go. She didn't even understand any more. The person she used to be, the one who would write up school papers and hope for good grades, seemed a world away, a whole different life away. Could she ever escape from her hunter? Eventually, she would die, stalked and killed by some conspiracy that had no qualms about murder. They'd already killed at least two people already…Canon, and Melody, and she had very nearly been a third…another shiver racked her body, and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep herself warm.

"Are you cold?"

Seifer's voice was low and throaty, and it sounded as if he had been crying. Quistis shut her eyes tightly, the threat of tears enveloping her. When Seifer started to lose control? She remained silent for a few minutes, listening to the rustle of leaves and the musical breeze around her. A strand of hair blew into her face. She didn't move to brush it away. She'd used to long for adventure, for pirates and knights in shining armour who would rescue her. But this wasn't an adventure. It wasn't like the movies. It was horror, pure and simple, and for the first time Quistis realised what fear really was. It wasn't worrying about failing an exam. It was fighting for your right to live, the will to live. And when you lost that…

"I'm scared…"

Seifer moved on the ground next to her, so that he was leaning over her. He brushed away the strand of hair from her face.

"Why…?"

Quistis rolled over to look at his face. She saw no fear in his eyes, only some sort of grim resolve that startled, if not frightened her. 

"Why not…"

Seifer's face grew soft in the moonlight as he looked at her under the canopy of stars. "Did you ever believe in those stories you used to read, Quisty?"

"Stories…?"

"The ones where the knight rescues the princess from the top of the tower. It's love at first sight. There is no fear or terror in fairytales. Do you know why?"

Quistis shook her head silently. She thought she saw the glimmer of a tear in his eyes. "Tell me."

"There is a love beyond all fear. If love is supposed to conquer everything, then love, pain, and sorrow can never exist side by side. There is love, and there is pain, and there is fear, and when they come together your heart feels as if it could be torn in two. Yet, if you have enough love, you can never be afraid. Fear cannot exist where there is love. Because where there is love, there is trust, and where there is trust, there is no fear."

Tears were rolling slowly down his cheeks now, dropping one by one onto the pale ivory of Quistis' forehead.

"Do you trust me?"

She nodded slowly, her fingertips searching for his. She grasped his hand tightly, drawing on his strength. "I trust you. I love you."

"Then understand what I have to say to you. You will understand, won't you, Quistis?"

Suspicion clouded Quistis' eyes. "What is it…"

"I have to leave you, Quistis."

_I have to leave you Quistis. I have to leave you. Leave you. Alone. _The words echoed in Quistis' head. A throbbing pain started in her temples. She opened her mouth, searching for words to say, but none came out.

"Wh…I mean…why…"

Her words were no more than a whisper, a choked whisper. 

"It's me they're after, Quistis. Not you. As long as I am with you…you are in danger. If you were hurt, it would be my fault. And I couldn't live with that…not with your pain, not with my guilt…"

Quistis shook her head silently, tears coursing down her face as he continued.

"If I leave you, they'll find me. I'll handle it, I'll do what I have to, fight, fight to kill if necessary, but I know that you will be safe. You will be safe, won't you Quisty?"

"Don't go…"

Quistis sat up suddenly, her fingernails digging into the ground at her sides. Anger and frustration tinged her words. "DON'T GO!"

"Quistis, Quisty, I have to, I have to…you have to be strong. You have to be strong."

"No…no…"

Seifer stood up quickly, tears filling his eyes. He raised his voice, fire blazing in his heart. "Do you think this is easy for me either? Imagine if you came with me, Quistis, imagine if that bastard found us again. Imagine this time you were shot, and this time it didn't miss. Imagine my face as blood stains your dress, imagine the tears and hurt and guilt and shame. How could I live with that? I couldn't, that's what, I would die and it would be both our lives. A goddam waste!!! This way, if I die…I know you will be safe. I know I will have protected you…"

"But we have to be together. Whatever happens, at least we should be together! My life is nothing without you, nothing…"

Seifer crossed over to her in two strides, his face and voice softening. "Don't talk like that, Quistis. Don't talk like that. Just know I will always love you."

That was the moment. That was the moment it broke through to her that she could never see him again. He took her in his arms, and her fingers pressed into his back, and he felt her chest rise and fall irregularly, trembling with the force of the sobs that were pouring out from her soul. Gut wrenching, terrible sobs. He thought he would never hear such a sound again, and the sound would haunt him for the rest of his life. He found himself crying too, and Hyne looked down on the two lovers sobbing in eachother's arms, and wove a blanket of moonlight around them. They glowed like deities in the dark night, as their hearts beat as one, and their tears mingled on eachother's cheeks as they pressed their lips to one another's over and over again. Seifer buried his face in her neck, the tears dampening the pure white skin. And then he drew away, his wide eyes wet but full of determination.

"Goodbye…"

He touched her hand briefly.

"Head to the town at sun up. It's not far, you can walk. Don't walk down any dark alleys or anything…Get in touch with Squall or something. Take this-" – he pressed something cold into her hand – "…I love you."

He turned around and jumped into the car at the roadside, not looking back. This was the last time he would ever see her, hear her voice…and those were the last words he would ever have said to her.

The car swerved away from the roadside, screeching away as fast as it would go. Quistis jumped to her feet and ran desperately behind it, but soon it was only a disappearing speck, and she was left cold and exhausted by the roadside. Tears ran down her cheeks still. Her  legs gave way beneath her and she fell to her knees, alone on the cold hard gravel, the tears dripping into the dust with nobody there to wipe them away.

"…Remember me."

***

I know this chapter was a bit short too, but bear with me! PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!


	15. All those years ago

All those years ago… 

Thanks for waiting so patiently for this chapter!!!!

Please review me!

**Setting: 6 years have passed since the last chapter. Gaia Hospital, about 250 miles from Balamb. **

"How long has she been there"?

"Too long!"

The two nurses smiled at eachother over their morning coffee. The hospital smelled of cleanness, and there was a reassuring bustle around all the tables in the pleasant hospital canteen. The younger nurse tossed back her chestnut hair, fiddling with the strings on her white muslin apron.

"She came in about…I don't know, five, six years ago. The famous commander, Squall Leonheart…" Both nurses smiled knowingly and pressed their hands to their hearts, giggling. "Well, Squall brought her in all the way from this tiny place in the middle of nowhere, because we were the only place with a specialised department for her kind of condition. Apparently she was attacked by a tall man – I remember seeing a picture of him – horrible, dark man in a trenchcoat – on a dark lonely road, well into the night. Squall happened to be in the right place in the right time. He was, at the time, accompanied by Nick, a police officer from across the border. They caught the guy – there was some enquiry, and he got life in jail for two other counts of murder – but they never caught the other guy under suspicion. Seifer, I think his name was. You should have seen Squall's face when he was talkin' bout him – almost as if he hated him too much to even talk about him, y'know? Well, this girl came in in a coma, almost paralysed in one arm, and she's been in a coma ever since. A few years ago they moved her from Balamb all the way out here in Gaia, because of demand for bed space, and the third Worker's Gaia Hospital strike, you know? Squall has given orders that her life support machine never be turned off. He's paid a helluva lot of money to keep her here for so long, I can tell you. I guess he hopes that one day she might just wake up…I guess he'll never know, though. He went off to fight in the Second Gaia War, and won't be coming back for at least a few years…"

"That's tragic…imagine, the poor young girl. I can't even see her face…her eyes and her nose are covered by those horrible, white bandages."

_I'm in a field. I don't recognise it, though. The flowers are all black, instead of different colours. The sky is blue, but there's a big scar across it, a red scar, like the scar on someone's arm, or a scar on someone's face. Someone's coming towards me. I don't recognise him. I can't remember what I look like. I can see golden hair flying on my arm, but it stirs nothing. Is my hair red, or black, or gold?_

_Now I see a man, a man I knew once long ago, coming towards me. I feel words, although words are spoken and not felt._

_But that doesn't matter. Scars don't matter either. Who said that to me? Flashing lights - _

_The man coming towards me is smiling. His eyes are empty though, just sockets. I'm afraid, but I can't run. Then, the lovely fair face turns dark. The features are a blur and I can't make them out, but I can see evil emanating from him. I fall down, and I can't pick myself up again – I just keep falling down again, to my knees. _

_Who can I call for? I know nobody. I know nothing. Who am I and where do I come from? I don't love anybody!_

_I see a face but I can't see the eyes. The eyes are the key! I'm so close…I almost can see him, it's almost clear! Something is stirring deep inside. If I stretch a little further…if I climb another mountain…then I will see…_

_But I know I love him…_

_Ah!!…What's happening? I feel pain, pain suddenly searing through my body. I've been numb for so long.._

"My God…". Her voice came out as a weak croak., startling herself. Was that HER voice?

"Where am I…?"

She looked around the room. She saw black. She lifted her hands and clawed at her face. Her hands were heavy, and clammy, and something was holding them back down. Something warm and dry got in the way between her hands and her face, like a cloth or bandage. Tears burned her stinging, sore eyes, dampening the bandage. 

"What's my name?"

Silence answered her.

"WHAT'S MY NAME!!!!???"

Seifer Almasy crossed to his living room and stared out of the window. Grey sky, grey sky, grey sky. He picked up the newspaper and stared at it, but hardly got past the date. Was it coincidence that today was the day he felt the most miserable, the most grey? Or was it the memory of the day, exactly six years ago, when he left Quistis Trepe alone and abandoned on a lonely dark road in the middle of nowhere, and never heard from her again?

He walked slowly into the bedroom, almost mechanically opening the bottommost drawer next to his bed. He pulled out a well-thumbed piece of crumpled newspaper and stared at it for a few minutes, his mind almost a complete blank.

"Man jailed for life by Commander Squall Leonhart" 

**Last night, a man was jailed for life by Balamb Court on two counts of murder and a third of attack, as well as numerous imports of drugs and drug smuggling. It appears that the man was importing drugs from an accomplice in India, who obtained them from a third accomplice free of charge. These drugs are highly dangerous…(**Seifer skimmed this area)

**…It also became apparent that the man had killed two people, one man and one woman, who will not be named as of this publication, in connection with this drug ring. He was as of yesterday under suspicion of having killed another woman, who was romantically linked with the head agent leading the case, who worked with Commander Leonhart. **

**It later transpired that the man was caught just after he made yet another attack. This young person was in intensive care last night, but cannot be named or described. The gender of the attacked person has also not been released. Further details of the victim's condition have not been released. Leading up to the arrest, Commander Leonhart and Agent Spira had been tracking the man in a helicopter for a number of hours. They then managed to overcome him and brought him to the county prison. The sentence was imposed upon him last night. However, no comment was made on the case by either of the men.  **

**Another man is being sought in connection with the case. Seifer Almasy is under direct suspicion of being linked with the drug ring and in connection with a number of other attacks, and three counts of murder. He is of medium build, Caucasian, with short blonde hair and a distinctive red scar, much similar to Commander Leonhart's, on his forehead. He…"**

Seifer put down the paper. Who had Jeff attacked the night he had been jailed? It couldn't have been Quistis, or there would have been news in the papers, as she had been wanted for murder in the first place. Unless Squall had hushed up the press…he had enough money, after all. After Seifer realised that he was wanted, he moved to Gaia, 250 miles from Balamb. He dyed his hair a dark, ochre brown, and covered his scar daily with special makeup. By now, however, it no longer stood out an angry red, and he had no need to cover it. He also went by an alias; Quiaty Trebor. It was an outlandish name, but he felt it paid some homage to Quistis's name…

Quistis…

He delved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled picture he always carried around with him. Quistis' face smiled up at him, unmarred by fear, or terror, or pain, or tears…He remembered her as she was in the photograph, happy and radiant, not as she was when he left her, alone, terrified, crying from the pain and fear and frustration of it all. He had loved her, and he would never love again.

Dear Mr. Trebor

As you are no doubt aware, when you moved to Gaia, you signed a county form binding you to community duties. At the time, when the Third Worker's Strike was in motion, you agreed to take in invalids from the hospital who were recovering, but yet needed bed space and care.

While we realise the strike is over, we have severe overcrowding in our hospitals. We would like to implore you to take our plea into consideration. A coma patient has recently, and unexpectedly come out of coma. She is still delirious and is very weak, but we now need as much of the hospital facilities free for other patients as possible. Under contract you are very much obliged to take in the young woman, for security reasons named only as Miss X, under your roof until she is able to display independence and is much recovered.

She also appears to suffer from amnesia: please do not attempt to hurry her as her memory may not recover completely.

Please come to Gaia Hospital on Thursday next  to  collect Miss X, who is wheelchair bound and must remain in bed upon arrival at your place of residence.

Thanking you sincerely

GAIA STATE COUNCIL COMMITTEE

**No prizes for guessing where I'm heading with this one! I hope you don't mind that it moved on the story so far into the future. There will be drama, plenty of it. Also I'm not an expert on the legal system, or on hospitals/medicine, so there are likely to be logic holes here. If there are any really glaring ones please tell me so I can rectify them!**


End file.
